Let Me Be Your Ghost
by Luna Darkside
Summary: When a heist goes every kind of wrong and Kaito ends up dying in the hospital, he's given a choice. He'll be resurrected for seven days, and if he can get Shinichi to return his feelings during that time, he'll be given a second chance at life. The problem? He's wearing the face of a stranger. /ShinKai/
1. look behind you

_Sorry for the wait, everyone! I know I usually update around Friday, but, uh... nope._

_Basically, I've been spending the past week writing this fic. It started out as a random little idea, but then I was like, "Weeeell, I've gotten this far. Might as well keep going." It's eight chapters total and I've finished writing all of it. I'm thinking I'll update every few days, if that's okay with everyone...?_

_As for the plot itself, the summary just about says it all. There's going to be eventual shounen-ai. (What else is new?) Er... there might be some grammar mistakes/errors because I'm far too lazy to go reread this. Also there's a bit of OC x OC. I hope it doesn't bug you guys *hides in corner*. I'll put a warning on the chapter it happens in._

_And because of the obvious fact that this contains character "death," you should keep in mind that this is quite a bit less lighthearted than what I usually write. But eventual fluff!_

_Oh! In case you were wondering about the title(s) (of the chapters and the fic itself), all of them are lyrics from the song _Ghost _by __Parachute_. _Not because it actually fits or anything. I just like that song._

_Anyway, this isn't all that well-written or well-paced or well-anythinged, really, but I thought I'd share it regardless. I hope you enjoy this! - Luna_

* * *

_chapter one _/ _**look behind you**_

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It's funny how your perspective changes if you know you're going to die. To think about what you would've done differently if you knew you weren't going to see them again. To wish you didn't say that and admit you didn't mean that and tell them everything you want them to know.

It's really quite funny.

* * *

"Look, I'm _just _saying that it's dangerous."

Kuroba Kaito pinched his nose bridge, rubbing his face wearily before he met Kudou Shinichi's eyes. The two of them were standing in Shinichi's entry, and Kaito had been about to leave for a heist when Shinichi had sprung the question on him.

_Will you let me help you take down Snake and his men?_

Kaito's immediate response of "Hell no," had led to this predicament.

Exhaling resignedly, Kaito leaned against the door. "Look, I appreciate your concern, Kudou. I really do. But you _know _that I can handle them by myself."

Shinichi's eyes flashed. "You don't understand, Kuroba. This Snake guy and his crew? They sound like an offshoot of the Black Organization. Do you know how many people we had to get involved to take down the Black Organization? Both the CIA and the FBI were involved, Kuroba." He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, frowning so hard it was a wonder his face didn't break. "You're just a single person, you know."

_Ugh_. Kaito _really _didn't need this conversation right before a heist. He hefted his bag of disguises higher up on his shoulder, forcing himself to remain calm. "So what? If you help me, that's going to be better? Two people facing a crime syndicate rather than one?"

"_Yes_," answered Shinichi emphatically, miffed. "I have experience with them. I can help you." He lowered his voice. "Kuroba, I just… I just I don't want you to get hurt."

The look on his face made Kaito melt a little bit. After all, it wasn't every day that a proud, slightly rigid detective showed you that expression – eyes smoldering fierce azure, mouth clamped in a stick-straight line, something almost imploring about the set of the jaw.

And it was precisely _because _Shinichi looked so worried, so concerned, so beautiful, that Kaito clenched his teeth and glared. "No. I'm not going to let you help me with this. Leave me alone, Kudou," he ground out, hating himself as Shinichi's eyes darkened to navy ink.

But he just couldn't let Shinichi help with this. Not when these people had already taken his father from him. He wouldn't let them have Shinichi _too_, dammit. He wouldn't be able to survive that.

The detective dragged down a breath, his face flattening into a blank canvas. "Fine. Go to your heist," he said quietly, pivoting around to head for the Kudou family library. "I'll talk to you later." His footsteps faded off, punctuated by the sound of the door shutting.

Kaito bit back the question that had arisen in his mouth – _You're not coming to the heist, then? _– and turned back to the door. He took a deep, shuddering breath, and pushed it open. He stepped out into the cool evening breeze, which pressed comfortingly against his skin.

Behind him, the door closed with an air of finality.

* * *

Kaito watched in satisfaction as streams of alarm-blaring police cars took off down the street below, chasing after the dummy Kid he had set up. He could almost _hear _them swearing violently as they swerved after the floating white doll. Even after all these years, it was still all too easy to trick the inspector. The man really never learned.

He felt a slight pang thinking how Shinichi never would've fallen for that, imagining what the cocky bastard would say. Something like, "As if I'd fall for that ridiculous trick" or "Really, Kid, you should know better by now"?

Kaito quickly brushed the thought off. No use thinking about Shinichi. He'd already been distracted the whole heist, replaying their fight over and over again in his head; he didn't need to think about him _now_.

Digging the jewel out of his inner pocket, Kaito held it up to the moon. He squinted at the light that filtered through it, disappointment filling his stomach. Nothing unexpected, no magical glow, just red-tinted light. It wasjust a ruby, in the end.

With a sigh, Kaito tucked the gem back into his pocket. Well, that had been a waste. He'd just go home for tonight. Hm… maybe he could stop by Shinichi's place and try to talk to him, get everything sorted out – he didn't like the feeling of being in a fight with him.

He wondered briefly if Shinichi would be awake, then shook his head at the thought. Of course he'd be awake. And knowing him, he was probably poring over some fifteen-year-old cold case and solving it in under three minutes. That was his detective. Kaito smiled at the thought, stepping to the edge of the building. Wind ruffled his hair, the feeling familiar and calming. He was about to snap open his hang glider –

– when there was a loud bang and suddenly pain shot through him, stabbing through his back with a stinging fury. Kaito gasped in shock, pitching forward slightly, head snapping down to see a red coronation blossoming across the front of his chest. Dizzily, head pounding, he lifted a hand to press against the red. The glove on his hand came away wet, glittering an unmistakably bright crimson even in the dim moonlight. There was no mistake.

Blood.

_But what –_

Kaito's eyes widened in horror as realization struck. _Snake._

He barely managed to look behind him and catch sight of the glinting barrel of a gun protruding from a window on the opposite building before he fell over the edge of the building, cape whipping violently. The wind was no longer even vaguely calming, tearing at his face as he dropped and his chest throbbed and he coughed, blood filling his mouth – _metallic, bitter _–

As the concrete rushed up to meet him, a strange thought occurred to Kaito, bringing with it an unexpected feeling of acceptance. He really wished he hadn't fought with Shinichi tonight of all nights. He wished he had told him that he just hadn't wanted Shinichi to get hurt. He wished he'd confessed that he'd been in love with him for the longest time.

He almost smiled at the irony, even as his arm slammed into the ground and he felt bones shatter, pain forcing a choked breath out of his searing, _searing _lungs.

It was really quite funny.


	2. avoid the shadows

_I realized that the summary is a little misleading. Because the stipulations of the deal are actually much more, um, restraining than what the summary implies._

_There's an OC introduced here. She has very minimal significance, really. __(If anyone's wondering, my soul reaper(s) are a cross between soul reapers from Bleach and shinigami from Death Note, although they look human.)_

_Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! - Luna_

* * *

_chapter two _/ _**avoid the shadows**_

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When Kaito opened his eyes again, he was in a white room.

He had to blink a good number of times to focus his vision, distinguishing the starched white bed sheets from the walls and – wait a second, who was that on the bed…?

It took him a second to realize, with a feeling of rapidly growing horror and confusion, that it was him. Kuroba Kaito. Lying on the bed. Swaddled in blankets. Unmoving.

Kaito whipped down to look at himself, the dismay worsening in the pit of his stomach. He was standing behind the bed, halfway transparent. Exactly like a ghost.

What did this _mean_?

He glanced frantically around the room. It was your standard hospital room, everything in varying shades of white with beeping machines huddled at one side of the bed –

– was he _flatlining_?

No. No, this couldn't be happening.

A choked sound sent Kaito scrabbling to find the source of the sound. His eyebrows shot up as he realized that Shinichi was sitting in the chair by Kaito's bed, face buried in his hands. He slumped further down in the chair, almost collapsing.

"Kudou?" Kaito asked bewilderedly, reaching out to touch Shinichi's shoulder. He flinched as he hand passed through the man's arm, straight through his thigh. Something like an electric shock jolted through Kaito, and he jerked, staggering backwards in surprised agony.

Oblivious, Shinichi lifted his hand from his face, settling them limply into his lap. Kaito instantly forgot about the pain shuddering through him at the sight of Shinichi's face.

The detective… was _crying_.

Frozen, Kaito couldn't help but stare. He wasn't imagining it, was he? No, he couldn't be – there were legitimate trails down Shinichi's cheeks, shiny and bright and completely out of place against his pale skin, and his eyes were beginning to turn subtly red.

But this – Kaito had _never _seen Shinichi even close to tears –

Shinichi's lips trembled before he mashed them together, cutting off a strangled sigh. He backhanded his face impatiently, sucking in a breath. "Damn it. Damn it all," he muttered, dropping his face back into his hands. "Kaito…"

The sound of his given name from Shinichi's lips jarred Kaito out of his stupor. He backpedaled, nearly tripping over his own feet. This scene – what was _happening? _

Was he… _dead_?

"I see you've figured it out," said a cool female voice, and Kaito whirled around, nerves already on edge.

A dark-haired girl stood behind him, leaning against one wall. She looked completely ordinary, completely average, completely _forgettable_, that Kaito almost didn't notice the way her eyes were a cold blood red and how there was a faintly visible glow of energy around her. She was dressed in nondescript black robes with a shimmering sword strapped to her back that instantly told Kaito who she was.

His mouth dried immediately. "Are you…" He cleared his throat. "Are you a – a soul reaper?"

The girl nodded. Her smile was humorless and hard. "How _ever _did you guess?"

Kaito's blood seemed to run cold. "So… you're here to take me to the afterlife, right?"

"You're two for two," the soul reaper said. "It has been roughly twenty hours since you were shot and two minutes since you died." Her crimson eyes slid over to Shinichi, and Kaito followed her gaze.

Shinichi was swiping his sleeves over his eyes roughly, clenching his teeth hard as if he was trying to stop crying. "Damn it," he murmured, an audible quaver in his voice. "I can't believe…" His voice caught in his throat, and he barely managed to dislodge it before he whispered hoarsely, "_Damn it_."

Something felt like it was tearing in Kaito's chest. To see Shinichi like this – it hurt. Physically, mentally, spiritually – it hurt.

"You love him, don't you?"

Surprised, Kaito jumped, peering back over his shoulder. The soul reaper was watching him with steady, solid red eyes, body language unreadable.

Kaito's fingers curled into frustrated fists at his sides as he watched Shinichi struggling to compose himself. "Yes. But that doesn't change anything, does it?"

Her voice was quiet and flat as she asked, "Does he love you?"

Kaito laughed bitterly. "Does that even matter at this point? Either way, I don't think so." He turned around, forcing himself to breathe. "Let's go."

"Wait just a second." The soul reaper girl pushed off from the wall, taking a few steps until she was mere feet away from him. Her eyes flickered from red to green as she searched Kaito's. "I'm usually not the type to offer this kind of deal, I'll admit. I leave that to the softer soul reapers. I'm not usually moved by these kinds of stories. But my partner probably would want me to do something along these lines, if he were here."

"Huh?" Kaito stared.

She frowned for half a second before she nodded decisively. "I will offer you a deal, Kuroba Kaito," she declared, taking a step back. "I will give you seven days. Seven days to prove your love for this man." She motioned at the hunched figure beside the bed. "If you can get him to return your feelings, I will return your soul to earth."

"You mean –" Kaito couldn't believe what he was hearing. His nails bit into his palms as his fists tightened. "You'll… resurrect me?"

"In a manner of speaking," the girl said dryly. "Would you like to hear more?"

"Um, _yes_?"

The soul reaper smiled. This smile actually held slight traces of warmth, though. "Here is the 'catch,' as you humans like to call. I call it the 'terms.'" Her eyes seemed to burn brighter. "I will give you a human body. Not your own – you wear the face of another. If he confesses to you, I will return your former body and change the past so nobody will know you died except for him. You cannot go by your real name. You are not allowed to tell him anything that directly relates to Kuroba Kaito – things that are unique to you. You may not tell him what happened to you. You will not confess your feelings before he does – he must make all advances. Violate any of these terms, and you will regret it dearly."

Kaito swallowed. His throat was painfully dry. "So basically I'm a stranger to him, and he has to figure out that I'm me, assuming that he loves me and would confess to me."

"Perhaps, if you would like to look at it that way," ceded the soul reaper.

So far, it was sounding good. Too good. "What happens if I don't get him to… go for it? Is there a punishment?"

"You are correct. There is a toll," she acknowledged. "If you fail to make him see you, I will take your soul to the afterlife, and you will never see him again."

"What?" Kaito's eyes widened. "Even when he dies and comes to the afterlife as well?"

"Even when he dies," the soul reaper agreed. "It's very rare for two particular souls to meet in the afterlife to begin with, as there are so many soul already present, but it will be entirely impossible between the two of you. I will personally make sure that your souls repel each other." Her face was impassive. "Do you accept?"

Kaito's heart throbbed. What should he do? There was no way that Shinichi was in love with him to begin with, and the chances of success were so ridiculously low… And to never see Shinichi again, even in the afterlife, as slim a chance as it was…

It was at that exact moment that Shinichi, who had been almost forgotten, inhaled softly, drawing both Kaito's and the soul reaper's attention.

"Is it pathetic that I already miss you?" he asked softly to the supposedly empty room, staring listlessly at the floor beneath your feet. "That I want to see you smile just one more time?" He breathed out, slow and halting. "Oh God, I'm talking to a ghost." He sagged farther down in the chair, lowering his face. "I'm so _pathetic_."

Kaito stared at him, transfixed. The curve of his bent shoulders, the dried tear tracks on his cheeks, the slight puffiness to his eyes, the way he was trying to breathe evenly…

He turned to the soul reaper, setting his jaw. "I accept," he told her quietly.

She nodded. Kaito couldn't tell if she was giving him an encouraging smile or an indulgent smirk. "Then I wish you luck, Kuroba Kaito," she said before she touched him lightly on the chest, right over the heart, and everything faded to black.

* * *

"Sir? Sir, are you all right?"

Kaito jerked awake at the sound of a slightly desperate voice and the feel of someone shaking one his shoulders. His eyes snapped open to find that he was looking directly into the face of a white-clad nurse.

Relief spread across her face. "You're awake. Good." She stepped back, smiling. "You've been passed out here for quite some time. We didn't notice you until just now, though." Her smile turned apologetic. "What can we do for you?"

Blinking hurriedly, Kaito looked around. He was in what appeared to be a waiting room on the first floor of the hospital, draped over a chair in one of the corners.

He bolted upright, remembering the deal. How long had he been out? He didn't have time for this –

"Sir?" the nurse called after him, surprised as Kaito jumped up and started to run down the hall. He only made it a couple feet before he almost tripped. Kaito's eyebrows shot up as he stumbled, barely catching himself before he face planted. What was this?

Looking down, Kaito discovered that his legs were a bit longer than they remembered. He lifted his arms to find that his skin was about two shades darker than he expected. Eyes widening, Kaito stuttered to a stop, letting the nurse catch up to him.

And then it struck him. Oh, right. He had a different body. One that was clad in a vintage B'z shirt and black jeans. Clearly the soul reaper had a strange sense of fashion.

"What's wrong?" the nurse asked as she came up alongside him, forehead creased in concern. "Are you unwell, sir?"

Kaito shook his head quickly. "Uh, it's nothing. I just…" He winced, realizing how his voice sounded different even to him – lower, somehow, a little gruffer. He wondered what he looked like. "I'm looking for a room – a Kuroba Kaito? Do you know where his room is?"

The nurse's face fell. "Oh, are you – are you a relative of his?"

"Er…" _Well, I _am _him, so maybe? _ "You could say that, I suppose."

She seemed to accept his odd answer, nodding slightly. "I'm sorry. He passed away a few hours ago," she told him quietly. "He was in room 412, on the fourth floor." She paused. "Do you know that man?"

"Huh?"

"The man who's been in Kuroba-san's room since he arrived. I believe he's a detective?"

Kaito's heard pounded. "Oh, you mean Kudou, then."

"I believe so." The nurse looked at him, head slanted curiously. "So you do know him?"

"Yes. Is he still here?"

"Well…" The nurse faltered. "I haven't seen him leave yet, so it's possible. Kuroba-san has been gone for a few hours by now, but I don't think he's gone home yet."

"Thanks." Kaito tossed her a quick smile before he dashed for the elevator down the hall, careful to readjust his stride to match his new legs. He felt a little bit numb. There was no way Shinichi would just accept him if he popped up at his house, so he really needed to find the detective now –

At the end of the hall, the elevator dinged. Kaito skidded to a stop as the doors slid open and out stepped Kudou Shinichi himself. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of the rumpled man, taking an almost involuntary step forward.

Shinichi stared at the man in front of him, bemused. For a second – for just a second, he had almost thought he was _Kaito_, but there was just no way. First of all, Kaito was dead – Shinichi knew that best of all, he thought with a wave of depression – and second, the man looked nothing like the magician. This man was taller, with slightly darker skin, his eyes a less beautiful (but just as vibrant) emerald green, his chestnut brown hair centimeters longer and much more neatly arranged. He was good-looking, just as Kaito had been, but in a completely different way – more rugged, not as flashy, playful. Also, Kaito would probably not be caught dead in a vintage B'z shirt.

Yet somehow, Shinichi had almost thought –

The spell was broken when the man, who had been staring at him as if transfixed, cleared his throat. Shinichi almost jumped, cursing his shattered nerves for the uncharacteristic action. Nodding politely, he made to move past the man. He was a foot down the hall when the man spoke up, his voice vaguely rough around the edges.

"Um, are you… going somewhere?"

Eyebrows raised, Shinichi gave a quarter turn to meet those disconcerting green eyes. He nodded slowly, his neck feeling stiff. That was what he got for not moving from the chair for nearly two hours. "Yes. I'm returning home," he answered quietly, his voice cracking from disuse. "And you are…?"

"Oh… I was just…" The man was clearly uncomfortable as he shifted, put weight on one foot, then the other. "Well, I just… you sort of… struck me, is all."

"I see." Shinichi turned all the way around now. "Are you a fan?"

"Huh?" The man blinked.

"I suppose not, then." Shinichi almost smiled in relief. He didn't need a fan of his to see him in this state, clothes wrinkled from sitting for too long and hair mussed beyond belief. "I'm Kudou Shinichi, a detective. I've been in the news a few times."

"Oh, right!" The stranger nodded as if remembering something. "That's right, you're the guy who solves all those cases. I'm Kuro…" He paused for a second. "…Kurosawa. Kurosawa, uh, Haruto." Kurosawa extended one hand – not in a gesture for a handshake, but in a… fist? His fingers were slight curled, and he seemed to flick his thumb as he brought his hand forward.

Where had Shinichi seen that motion before?

Kurosawa seemed to freeze as he realized what he was doing, quickly straightening his arm to adjust it into a handshake. He laughed awkwardly. "Sorry about that. Old habits die hard, huh?"

Shinichi arched a brow. "What habits are those?"

The man shrugged evasively. "Oh, I don't know." He motioned for Shinichi to take his hand.

Shinichi almost frowned as he accepted Kurosawa's handshake. Kurosawa's hand was thoroughly unnerving – it was definitely a little calloused, the fingers not so delicate, but somehow it reminded Shinichi of Kaito's.

He shook his head, angry at himself. No. There was absolutely no similarity. Kaito's hands were much more nimble, adept, the hands of an artist. Of a magician. It made sense that he missed Kaito, that he was hurting desperately, but this was taking it way too far. He didn't need to see Kaito in everything.

Dropping Kurosawa's hand abruptly, Shinichi whirled back around. "Nice to meet you, Kurosawa-san. But I've had a difficult day, and I'd really like to go back home now."

From behind him, Kurosawa seemed to sigh deeply. "I understand. I'll just go… find somewhere to stay," he muttered. Shinichi was fairly certain he hadn't been supposed to hear that, but it certainly caught his attention.

"You don't have anywhere to go?" he asked, surprised.

Blinking at being caught, Kurosawa just nodded. "W-Well, not really…? I… was evicted…? From my apartment?" He looked almost pitiful, standing in front of the elevator with a lost expression.

What was Shinichi supposed to do in this kind of situation?

He flinched, mentally berating himself. He _knew _what he should do, what the _right _thing to do would be. It wasn't this man's fault that he reminded Shinichi so acutely of Kaito for absolutely no reason. It wasn't _his_ fault that Kaito was gone.

And what would _Kaito _have wanted?

Shinichi exhaled before he faced Kurosawa, who was wearing frowning in bewilderment. "Would you like to stay at my house?" he offered.

The look on Kurosawa's face was enough to make Shinichi a little less miserable.

* * *

A note on Kaito's fake name: I decided on 黒沢 春斗 (_Kurosawa Haruto_) by retaining one kanji from each of Kaito's name (the _kuro_ from _**Kuro**ba_ and the _to_ from _Kai**to**_). "Kurosawa" means "black swamp" (yeah... clearly, I didn't pick it for the meaning) and "Haruto" contains the character for "spring" (cuz Kaito's born in June, after all) and one that refers to Ursa Minor (what I kept from his original name). Hope that makes sense!


	3. watch your back now

_Hi guys! Here's chapter three._

* * *

_chapter three _/ _**watch your back now**_

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Sunlight slipped through the slats on the window, casting stripes of golden across Kaito's face. He winced and covered his eyes with his hand, burrowing into the pillow. Distantly, he could hear the sound of someone moving around on the floor below him and smell coffee brewing. He almost smiled. It was as if he was at Shinichi's house…

The thought jarred him. With a jolt of surprise shooting up his spine, Kaito flew into a sitting position. White walls, hunter green comforter, and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf full of murder mysteries greeted his suddenly awake eyes.

He _was _at Shinichi's house.

After a moment of recovery – _right, right, he had died last night, and Shinichi had, surprisingly, invited him home and given him the guest room _– Kaito struggled to untangle himself from the sheets. He set his feet on the ground weakly, almost recoiling at the feel of solid ground. It was weird to think that he had _died_. It didn't feel as if anything had changed.

Kaito's thoughts were interrupted when there was a light tap on the door, accompanied by a, "Kurosawa-san?" He blinked and looked up just as Shinichi pushed the door open tentatively, then more boldly as he realized Kaito was awake.

"Hey," the detective offered quietly, taking a half-step into the room. Kaito silently admired the simple yet somehow attractive sight of him in loose flannel pajama pants and a worn t-shirt, hair ruffled and face still pale with sleep. "Just wanted to let you know that there's coffee in the kitchen. Also, I found some clothes you might be able to wear. We're around the same height, right?"

"Oh, uh, thanks," Kaito stammered, hating how his voice seemed to slash the quiet morning to pieces with its huskiness. He averted his gaze to one side, feeling awkward. He still had no idea what he looked like now, and Shinichi's expressions weren't helping much. If he was hideous, this whole operation was going to be a bit harder.

"The bathroom is to the left," Shinichi informed him. "I'll leave the clothes there now."

"Really, thanks for all of this," Kaito said, forcing himself to meet Shinichi's eyes. His host's eyes were sad and turbulent and jagged azure, almost like twin lakes in the wake of a storm.

Shinichi himself just nodded mutely, noticeably more subdued than usual, before he turned and padded off.

Kaito rubbed his forehead. "Damn," he muttered to the empty room. Shinichi's defenses were up further than he'd expected, though he could understand where the man was coming from. Almost painfully so.

This was going to be one hell of a week.

* * *

For some reason, Kaito had expected his new body to at least bear _some _resemblance to him, but the man staring back at him in the mirror looked absolutely nothing like Kuroba Kaito.

Pinching the still-damp skin around his mouth, Kaito leaned forward in horror. His jaw was definitely more angular than before, he decided, and the smooth skin pulled over it was rosier, darker. Not to mention his eye color. There was absolutely no trace of the bluish-purple they'd been in this – this _green_.

And his three-shades-lighter hair… was actually lying _flat_.

It was either horrible or amazing.

Giving up, Kaito stood back from the mirror with a hard exhale. This might be a bit trickier than before, seeing as he probably didn't even remind Shinichi of his old self at all, as far as appearances went. A stab of momentary despair sent his head hanging before he forced himself out of it. That was _not _going to help matters in _any _way.

Resigned, Kaito reached for the shirt and pants Shinichi had indicated were for his usage. He barely managed to restrain the thought of _Shinichi has worn this_ as the fabric slid over his skin. They smelled like laundry detergent, not like Shinichi, he tried to tell himself. There was no way Shinichi smelled like this – pine needles, maybe, with the slightest trace of peppermint?

Okay, well, he really didn't need to be thinking about that. Not right now, at least. Kaito woodenly dragged on the pants (they were about four centimeters short, he noted with surprise – so he was taller than Shinichi now?) and exited the bathroom, traveling the familiar path down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Shinichi looked up as Kaito entered. He was sitting at the kitchen table, a newspaper open in front of him and a mug of untouched coffee at his elbow. Kaito frowned at that. He of all people knew how Shinichi needed his morning coffee.

"Kurosawa-san," Shinichi muttered by way of greeting, and Kaito stared for a second, momentarily forgetting his alias, before he nodded quickly.

"What are you reading, Kudou-san?" he asked as he moved towards the coffeepot. His eyebrows furrowed as Shinichi's shoulders tensed. There was a sort pause before Shinichi answered.

"An article on the alleged death of the Kaitou Kid."

Kaito's hand froze, suspending the coffee pot in midair over the mug he'd taken from one of Shinichi's cabinets. Oh. Right. He should've realized that someone had gotten him to the hospital – a bystander or something? But he had ended up in the hospital under the name Kuroba Kaito, so from the gallery to the hospital, he had been stripped of the Kid suit and name, right?

It made sense that some people had spotted a person who looked like Kid being carted off at the exact gallery at which Kid had just completed a heist. That would make sense, and it explained Kid's 'alleged' death.

Briefly, he wondered who had changed him out of the Kid suit and who had identified him as Kuroba Kaito –

"You're about to overfill your cup," Shinichi warned him, and startled, Kaito jerked his hand upright just before the coffee overflowed. He glanced down at it in surprise.

"Oh. That's right." He gave an awkward laugh before replacing the coffeepot in its usual spot. Belatedly, he noticed his heart was pounding in his throat.

Kaito felt Shinichi's gaze on him as he drank some of the cup's contents, wincing at the bitterness. Once he'd lowered the amount of coffee sufficiently, Kaito set to work adding cream and sugar, hating how loud his actions sounded in the near-silence of the kitchen.

"You know," Shinichi began as Kaito tipped his third spoonful of sugar into his coffee, "the way you take your coffee reminds me of someone."

"Huh?" Kaito paused, glancing up to meet Shinichi's gaze. "Who?"

He winced at the sadness that immediately swallowed the azure of Shinichi's eyes. The detective seemed to steel himself as he answered, "A friend of mine." Shinichi leaned back in his chair, redirecting his gaze to the tabletop. "The reason I was at the hospital last night. He… passed away. His name was Kuroba Kaito."

Kaito nearly dropped the spoon. Of _course_. He should've realized that most people didn't add half a cup of sugar to their coffee. He'd just done it out of habit, seeing as it was the only way he could handle coffee, but to Shinichi, it probably screamed "suspicious." He wondered if this counted as a direct connection to himself…? Would he be punished by the soul reaper for breaking her rules?

Out loud, Kaito laughed awkwardly. "Really? Well, I, uh, I've always taken my coffee this way." He took a sip of the coffee and smiled as naturally as he could (which, to be honest, was not very naturally at all).

"Hm," Shinichi hummed, and Kaito was startled to see the slight upward curl of his lips. "It's kind of funny. You seem like you'd be this tough and rugged sort of person, but you have a strangely…" He paused, as if trying to find the right word. "…_cute_ personality."

It took a lot for Kaito to not drop his mug at _that _comment.

"W-Well," he stuttered, at a loss. How exactly was he supposed to respond to a comment like _that_?

"It was a joke." Shinichi folded the newspaper shut and finally drank his own coffee, eyes trained curiously on Kaito.

"Right." Kaito settled into the chair across from Shinichi, trying not to stare. Seeing Shinichi like this – not sarcastic, not calculating, sort of simultaneously empty and honest and detached – put him on edge. This wasn't the Shinichi he was used to.

He had expected his death to affect Shinichi to some extent, but not to the point that his masks didn't work…

"Are you normally like this?" Kaito asked before he could stop himself.

Shinichi's eyes narrowed in confusion, and he set down his cup to stare at Kaito appraisingly. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. You seem really… down. Kind of off. I don't really know." Kaito dragged a hand through his still-damp hair. "It's just… you seem like someone who's more… lively? Normally? I just… I don't know."

Regarding him impassively, Shinichi cracked a smile. "If a stranger can tell, then I'm really in bad shape," he remarked lightly. "You're right. I'm not really myself." He sighed heavily. "Like I said, a friend of mine died yesterday. And it was my fault."

Kaito had been expecting all of that answer save for the last sentence. His eyebrows shot up. "What do you mean by that?"

"Kaito's death was my fault," Shinichi stated simply, his eyes downcast. Kaito was too bewildered by his words to notice that he'd been addressed by first name. "We got into such a pathetic fight before he left, and it was because of my own stupid pride that I didn't go to his…" Shinichi paused. "I mean, follow him. I knew he was in danger – that's the whole reason we fought to begin with – but I was too stubborn to do the right thing, swallow my pride, and keep him safe. This was my entire fault, and I wouldn't blame Kaito for blaming me. Or even hating me." He lowered his face. Kaito saw his lips twitch before he added quietly, "If he still could, that is."

"But that wasn't your fault," Kaito instantly argued, his stomach dropping out. To the right of his hand, his coffee had gone lukewarm. Kaito frankly could care less. "You're beating yourself up over something that was completely out of your control. You couldn't have known they were – I mean, you couldn't have known he was going to be, uh, in danger that night."

Shinichi had raised his eyes and was now staring at Kaito with an expression of mild interest on his face. "Kurosawa-san?"

"I mean –" Kaito choked on the words, frowning hard. How could he say this without revealing himself outright? It was nearly impossible. But he just – he just wanted Shinichi to know that his death wasn't Shinichi's fault at all. No, it had been Kaito's own willful desire to keep Shinichi safe that had led to their current situation.

"Think of it this way," he finally started, once he noticed that Shinichi was still scrutinizing him carefully. "If your positions had been reversed, would you blame this, er, Kaito person for what he did? If you had been the one who'd died, would you hate him?"

Blinking, Shinichi seemed to consider it. "No – I mean, I wouldn't. Because I'd know that he hadn't done it on purpose. Or at least I'd think he hadn't, from what I know about him."

"Don't you think he'd feel the same?" asked Kaito softly. He felt relief swirl through his veins when the slash mark between Shinichi's eyes eased a little. "He wouldn't blame you. He _doesn't_ blame you, Kudou."

"I… see." Shinichi's face was hard to read, borderline emotionless. Kaito felt uncomfortable under his examination, azure eyes burning trails through him. Fear wormed its way into his stomach. Was he coming off as creepy?

He sighed mentally. Well, that was just what he needed, to be known as the creepy stranger so pitiful that Shinichi felt the need to bring him home like a stray dog.

The moment passed when Shinichi reached for his coffee cup. "You say interesting things, Kurosawa," he commented lightly, his smile swallowed by the rim of the cup. "It's sort of… I don't know, heartwarming. Kind of idealistic." He placed his mug back down on the table, smile morphing into a smirk. "It's cute."

Kaito began spluttering again, feeling a flush working up his neck. "Could you not? I'm not a girl, you know," he squawked, then flinched at how whiny he came off. He buried his face in his own coffee mug, wincing as Shinichi laughed.

It was only later that he realized Shinichi had dropped the "san" from his name.

_Kurosawa_.

Just like how he'd been Kuroba before.

* * *

It was nearing eleven thirty that night when Kaito emerged from his room, heading for the kitchen for a cup of tea. Kaito had noticed Shinichi didn't seem to want to talk after their initial sharing of coffee, so he'd gone to his room and spent most of the day reading through the books on the bookshelf. He didn't want to intrude on Shinichi – that would probably just make the detective push him away or write him off as an extremely pushy stranger. That was the last thing he needed with his little time left.

Kaito was walking down the hallway towards the kitchen when he glanced over and noticed the door to the library was ajar, a sliver of light sent sprawling over the dark floor. Was Shinichi still awake?

Holding his breath, Kaito crept forward, maneuvering so he could stare through the crack. His eyes widened at what he saw.

His back towards Kaito, Shinichi was sitting in one of the armchairs, his laptop on the table in front of him. Over the edge of his shoulder, Kaito could just barely make out a video playing in a flurry of colors.

It was a recording of a Kid heist.

Kaito recoiled in surprise, and he accidentally knocked his knee against the doorframe. Shinichi glanced behind him at the sound, his startled frown fading at the sight of a shell-shocked Kaito standing there.

"Kurosawa." His voice was soft. His expression was like parchment – rumpled and weary, and it made Kaito just a little sad.

"I heard – I heard something," Kaito tried to explain. Lamely. As he turned bright red in embarrassment.

But Shinichi just nodded. "I was just watching some videos of Kid heists."

"Did… did you know him or something?" Kaito ventured, though he obviously knew the answer.

Something in Shinichi's eyes changed, and he nodded – just the slightest inclination of his head. "Yes, I did. We were rivals for the longest time, but now… friends would probably be closer." His gaze flickered back to the screen, where the scene continued to play out. Kid flashed across the navy blue sky, a white comet amongst the much smaller stars, the hang glider snapping open as he sailed away. "We were friends."

Kaito wished he hadn't noticed the change in tense. "Oh, really?" he said conversationally.

"Really." Shinichi closed his eyes as the video ended, and for one precarious moment, Kaito was afraid he would start crying. That would probably tear Kaito to pieces.

Thankfully, Shinichi just opened his eyes again and leaned forward the hit the next button on his laptop. The screen changed to another video – the next heist.

Hesitating for a second, Kaito gathered up all his courage to ask, "Can I watch with you?"

Seeming a little bewildered, Shinichi turned to meet Kaito's eyes. He opened his mouth, probably about to politely reject him, but he seemed to reconsider. Returning his attention to the screen, he answered, "If you want to."

Relieved, Kaito hurried to sit in the armchair beside Shinichi and fixed his eyes on the screen. It was really quite odd to watch himself pulling a heist, sending police officers scattering with sleeping gas and snatching up the target gem with a maniacal cackle. He vaguely wondered who had taken the video.

He suddenly wondered if it had been Shinichi. Cameramen weren't allowed at Kid heists, and nobody else would've had the opportunity. Shinichi could have probably used some kind of small camera implanted on his watch or something similar – that professor friend of his probably would've made it for him.

At his side, Shinichi breathed a little sigh as onscreen, Kid leapt out of Inspector Nakamori's reach and flashed his best Kid grin before disappearing in a puff of smoke. The video shook for a second before Shinichi's voice, surprisingly close (so he must have been the one taking the videos, then?) muttered almost affectionately, "Damn thief," before the video ended.

Kaito's heart nearly stopped.

Without thinking, Kaito reached out and hit the next button just as Shinichi did. Their fingers brushed, and Kaito jumped, drawing back into himself. There had definitely been some kind of electricity right then, and he shivered.

The detective shot him a concerned glance. "You okay over there?"

"I'm… fine." Kaito forced his facial muscles into something he hoped resembled a smile and sat back. "This is kind of interesting. I didn't know you had a collection of Kid videos."

"Well, I wanted something left after heists were over," Shinichi explained quietly, looking into his lap. "That's all."

They continued watching in silence.


	4. make your breathing shallow

_Aaaaand here's part four. I think this _might _be the chapter I wrote while dealing with a head cold, so here's to hoping it turned out decently..._

* * *

_chapter four _/ _**make your breathing shallow**_

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When Kaito came down the stairs the following day, he was momentarily surprised to find Shinichi standing at the phone, frowning darkly. Kaito was almost afraid to know what was going on.

"I told you, Ran, it's not a good time," he was saying, his scowl only deepening at whatever Ran said in response. He glanced up when Kaito paused on the last step, the venom in his expression lessening marginally. Covering the receiver, he managed a smile as he said, "Good morning."

"Good morning." Kaito stared at the phone, taking the last step. "Who are you talking to?"

The shadow returned to Shinichi's face. "A friend of mine."

Arching an eyebrow, Kaito asked frankly, "Do you mean your girlfriend?" He'd always kind of wondered about what Ran was to Shinichi, really, but he'd never been able to ask as himself. Kaito was a bit scared of what answer he'd get, and he knew Shinichi probably wouldn't tell him anyway.

Inwardly, he smiled wryly. Well, there was the one upside to being dead. He could ask awkwardly personal questions and get actual answers.

Shinichi blinked. "Uh, no." He moved his hand off the mouthpiece and pressed it back to his ear before Kaito got out another word. "Are you still there? Oh. Okay. But, Ran, I still don't want to – oh, so it's 'moral support in my time of need.' Don't get me wrong, I understand that you guys are all worried about me, but I'm fine. Really."

Oh was probably worried sick about Shinichi. After all, one of his closest friends (namely, Kaito) had just died rather suddenly and gruesomely. Kaito lingered in the doorway leading to the kitchen, wondering if it was bad form to listen in.

Sighing, Shinichi switched the phone from one ear to the other. "Look, Ran, I just don't know if I can be around all of you just yet. I – it feels as if I'll just be reminded of him even more. Hakuba and Nakamori-chan… I met them because of Kaito, you know?" He breathed out, slow and shallow. "And I don't want to bring you guys down, too. I mean, I'm not exactly the best company at the moment."

Even from where Kaito was standing nearly five feet away, he could hear Ran protesting.

Shinichi winced and pulled the phone away from him. The threats of bodily harm Ran was giving made Kaito flinch, knowing she was probably serious.

After a good minute or two, Shinichi just groaned. "Okay, okay, Ran, just stop already," he grumbled, cutting her off. "Fine. I'll come to the stupid lunch. But if you guys start talking about my feelings and try to psychoanalyze me, I'm leaving." He stopped for a second and glanced behind him, eyes latching on Kaito, who jerked at being caught. "Hey, is it okay if I bring a friend?"

Ran apparently granted him permission, because Shinichi nodded. Kaito kind of wondered what friend he was talking about. "Okay. Then Poirot at twelve today? Fine. See you then." He deposited the phone back into its cradle before moaning out loud. "Ugh."

"She seems sort of, er… overbearing," Kaito commented, eyebrows raised.

"I guess," Shinichi agreed, leaning against the staircase. "But Ran is special. She's always been there for me, through everything. She's such an amazing person, honestly. I'm lucky to have a friend like her."

"Of course," Kaito nodded. His stomach abruptly felt hollow. What if they got together? What if Shinichi fell for her while she comforted him? What if –?

"And with Kaito… gone," Shinichi continued on, oblivious, "I'm doubly glad to have someone like her around. It's nice to know someone cares." The smile he gave was sad and world-weary, and Kaito's heart recoiled along with the rest of him.

As Shinichi turned to head for the library, he stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Oh. Are you free at twelve, Kurosawa?"

"Huh?" Kaito blinked. "I mean, I guess I am, but what…?"

"Would you like to come meet my friends?"

The expression on Kaito's face must've been nothing short of stunned because Shinichi hurried to clarify. "The friend I mentioned before – Mouri Ran – is gathering up a group of our friends for lunch today. I mean, if you're free, you could come to meet them. I know we're not, uh, exactly close or anything, but if you'd like, you're welcome."

Kaito gaped for a moment before he composed himself. "Of – of course. I'd love to come."

"Okay." Shinichi nodded and left for the library without another word.

* * *

Poirot was exactly as Kaito remembered. He swallowed dryly as he followed Shinichi in, the smell of coffee washing over him comfortingly. It was strange to think that he may never come back here after today, after his seven days – now _five days_ – were up.

He traced Shinichi's profile with his eyes. This all rode on him –

"Shinichi!" called a familiar voice, and Kaito's gaze snapped over to a table in the far back, where – Hattori, Kazuha, Hakuba, _Aoko_ – there were all there – His heart clenched in his chest at the sight –

Ran, who had been the one to call Shinichi's name, was hurrying towards them in a swish of skirt and dark brown hair. Her amethyst eyes were huge with worry. "Shinichi," she whispered once she reached them, grabbing his arms tightly. "Shinichi, are you all right?"

Her childhood friend just gave her a feeble smile. "I'm fine, Ran," he murmured reassuringly, and she only frowned, not believing him for a second. She wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her cheek in his chest. Shinichi awkwardly patted her on the back, expression masked but clearly pained.

Kaito forced himself to look away.

It was a minute or two before Ran stepped back, finally noticing Kaito. Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh, is this the friend you mentioned earlier, Shinichi?" she wondered, eyes filled with curiosity.

"Uh, yes," Kaito answered, feeling very out of place. "I, uh, met Kudou at the hospital a – a few days ago. I'm Kurosawa Haruto."

Something in Ran's eyes changed as she understood the unspoken meaning of "at the hospital a few days ago." "I see," was all she said, though, as she extended a delicate hand – hands whose delicacy belied their strength. "I'm Mouri Ran, Shinichi's childhood friend."

"It's a pleasure." Kaito accepted her hand before glancing over at the table.

Following his gaze, Ran smiled mildly. "Oh, yes, they're waiting for us." She turned and started for the table, Shinichi and Kaito trailing after her.

Kaito winced at the way Aoko looked at him, her face drawn and tightly composed behind a layer of mechanically applied makeup. Her eyes were clearly rimmed with red, though, and he felt a stab of pain. _Aoko_.

"Kudou-kun," she said, managing a slight nod in the detective's direction. "How have you been holding up?"

Shinichi, who was sitting down beside Hattori (Kaito hurried to take the seat beside his), blinked rapidly. "Oh – I'm fine."

Aoko smiled, a heartbroken expression edged with regret. "You – you found him, right? Outside that building near the Kid heist?"

Kaito's heart nearly stopped at that. So Shinichi had been the one who had found him? The one who'd changed him out of his Kid suit on the way to the hospital?

But why? The detective hadn't been there that night – they'd had that fight – so why had he come?

Lost in thought, Kaito almost missed the detective in question's answer.

"Yes." Shinichi swallowed. "I… I got there too late. I – It was too late."

"We would've come to the hospital," Aoko murmured, her face tight with suppressed emotion. "But we were on vacation, you know. We didn't hear about it until later."

"I'm sorry." Shinichi's eyes softened as he looked at her.

_I'm so sorry for all of this, _Kaito wanted to say, but didn't. He glanced around the table uncomfortably – Hattori looked fatigued, Kazuha had her hand pressed against her mouth, Hakuba's eyes were downcast, Aoko had begun to unconsciously hug herself, almost protectively. Ran was still watching Shinichi as if he was about to shatter any second, even as she took the seat beside his. Everyone was quiet.

It was surreal to see how his own death had affected his friends.

He considered going to see his mother and Jii – then instantly rejected the idea. No. It would hurt too much to see them suffering.

"Oh, Kurosawa-kun. Introduce yourself," Ran told him, and Kaito jumped.

"What? Er… I met Kudou at the hospital a few days ago. I was there trying to, uh, find someone who I thought might have gone there, but they weren't there." Kaito desperately hoped he would remember his story. "Since then I've been staying with him because I was evicted from my apartment. I'm Kurosawa Haruto." He bowed his head hurriedly. "Nice to meet you all."

"I see." Hattori smirked. "So you're homeless, then?" There was no bite behind his words. It was plain to Kaito that he was just trying to make conversation.

"Don't say that to someone," snapped Kazuha, elbowing the Osakan detective hard enough to make him yelp in surprise. She pasted on a smile. "I'm Toyama Kazuha. The rude idiot over here is Hattori Heiji." She glanced pointedly at Hakuba, who cleared his throat.

"I'm Hakuba Saguru. It's a pleasure."

Aoko sighed, leaning on Hakuba's shoulder. "I'm Nakamori Aoko. Sorry we're not so enthusiastic at the moment. We're all a little, ah, sad."

"Because of your friend's death, right?" Kaito supplied. "That Kuroba person?"

"Kuroba Kaito," Ran corrected. "Yes, him. We've all been taking it a bit hard." She glanced over at Shinichi, who had been silent ever since he talked to Aoko. "Some of us more than others."

"What are you trying to say, Ran?" Shinichi asked. Kaito was relieved that his voice was even, steady. He couldn't bear to see Shinichi crying again.

"You know why, Shinichi." The karate champion sighed. "You were in love with him."

Kaito froze at that, waiting for Shinichi to deny it.

He didn't.

"Not the time, Ran-chan," Kazuha murmured as Shinichi dropped his head onto the table wordlessly, turning his face away from them. From where Kaito was sitting, he could see Shinichi's jaw contract as he gritted his teeth.

It felt as if Kaito's heart was being simultaneously trampled on and set aflame. He wished desperately that he was alive, that he looked like himself, so he could smooth out Shinichi's face, pull away the frown, kiss his lips flat. It was pure torture, to be this close and so helpless. His palms itched to touch, to reassure, to comfort.

His jaw clenched. Had this been the soul reaper's intent from the beginning? To force him to see Shinichi torn apart?

Finally Ran forced herself to smile as she looked at Kaito. "So, ah, Kurosawa, have you come around here often?"

"Here? To – to Poirot?" Kaito blinked. "Er, not really, no. I'm not from around this area."

"Oh?" Aoko piped up, locking eyes with him. Kaito almost flinched at the familiarity of her gaze, choosing to wriggle uncomfortably instead. She didn't seem to notice, though. "Do you want to go look around? Let's see, there's the clock tower and the art gallery and –" She cut herself, suddenly catching Shinichi's eye and withering. Hakuba draped an arm across her shoulders comfortingly.

Puzzled, Kaito glanced over at Shinichi and was startled to see the tired, pained expression he was wearing. What had Aoko said –

Oh. _Oh. _The clock tower – that probably reminded them of him, of Kaito. After all, Aoko had met him there, and unbeknown to most of them, Shinichi had as well. And the art gallery – everyone assumed that Kaito and Shinichi had met at a Kid heist. Which they had, but in a fairly different manner than they probably assumed.

Either way, both of those places probably reminded them all of Kaito, Shinichi even more than the others.

Hakuba coughed, drawing attention away from Shinichi. "Well, ah, are you ready to order, everyone?" he asked, his voice pinched with forced cheer.

Hattori seemed to go along with it. "Of course we're ready," he grinned. There was desperation in his grin.

Azusa took this moment to float over, wielding her waitress's notepad and a very uncomfortable smile. "Hi, guys," she greeted softly. "May I take your order?"

"Just tea for me," Aoko said quietly.

Hakuba rubbed her arm and nodded. "For me as well."

"I'll have curry rice," Hattori told her.

"Coffee and a ham and cheese sandwich," Kazuha ordered.

Ran glanced at Shinichi, who made no move. "Two coffees, please."

Scribbling down their orders with a furrowed brow, Azusa looked at Kaito. "For you?"

"Er… chocolate ice cream."

Six pairs of eyes instantly turned on him. Kaito almost began sweating. "What?" he asked self-consciously.

"It's nothing," Aoko stammered. "Just – you know Kaito, right? Our friend who recently passed away, who we were just talking about? That's… that was his favorite. He always ordered that."

"Oh." Kaito winced a little bit. "I'm sorry about this."

"Oh, no, no, don't be sorry," Ran quickly hurried to assure him. "It's just a little bit funny. You've done nothing wrong. Nothing at all."

"Ah, okay." Kaito blinked a few times. Shinichi was watching him with a mildly interested expression.

At Kaito's side, Azusa made a small sound. "Uh, thanks for ordering, everyone." Her gaze lingered on Kaito for a second longer before she looked back to the others. "I just – I just wanted to give you guys my condolences. I – I heard about Kuroba-san. I didn't know him very well, as you all know, but he seemed like such a nice person. I mean, the first time we met, he gave me a white rose. It lived for nearly two weeks when I put it in water." She smiled briefly, as if remembering something. Kaito almost did, too – he remembered giving the waitress that flower, remembered how it had been one of the best from his garden.

Azusa seemed to realize her place, though, and blushed in embarrassment. "Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. I'm really sorry for you. Um…" Her eyes met Shinichi's briefly. "Especially you, Kudou-san. I'm so sorry. I know you loved him." She bowed and fled, covering her mouth with her hand.

Shinichi watched her go with vacant eyes.

Kaito could help but wonder if everyone else had known that Shinichi had loved him except for him. Even – even _Azusa _knew, and she wasn't even close to them.

How had _Kaito _not known?


	5. keep your room locked

_Don't worry, everyone, this fic shall eventually become happy! In... like... the last paragraph of the last chapter. But yeah._

* * *

_chapter five _/ _**keep your room locked**_

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"Where are you going?"

Shinichi, who was standing by the front door, glanced up when Kurosawa drifted out of the kitchen, looking lost.

The detective smiled faintly as he reached for his shoes. There was just _something _about Kurosawa that cheered him up. He hadn't filled the hole that Kaito had left, of course, but it was beginning to feel as if that hole was starting to heal.

Peering over his shoulder, he informed the other, "I'm going in to work."

Kurosawa blinked in confusion for a second before it seemed to click. "Oh, right, you're a detective," he said, nodding slowly. "I almost forgot for a second there. So are you being called out to a crime scene or something?"

"Not quite." Shinichi shook his head as he dragged on his coat. "I'm just going to the police headquarters to look through some old case files. I usually go in every day, but Officer Takagi called three days ago to tell me to take some time off." The unspoken _he heard about Kaito _hung in the air. Kurosawa looked uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other as his eyebrows furrowed. Shinichi felt a little bad – this was obviously pretty awkward for him. What were you supposed to say to a man who had lost his closest friend only three days ago?

The funny thing was that Shinichi was doing okay now. No, he wasn't cheerful or even remotely _happy_, but he was… calm. Composed. Peaceful. He missed Kaito like hell, of course, and sometimes he just wanted to curl up in a corner and never speak again, but at the same time, he knew Kaito would never want that for him. The magician had always been so full of life, so willing to do _anything _to get him to smile.

That thought (and perhaps Kurosawa's presence?) was all that kept him moving, helped him to carry on.

"I'm better now," Shinichi finally said, breaking the silence as he lifted his eyes to meet Kurosawa's. "So I'm going in." He stopped. The look on Kurosawa's face was nothing short of _longing_, almost. As if he wanted to follow Shinichi wherever he went.

Deciding to ignore the slight creepy factor of that last thought, Shinichi slanted his head to one side appraisingly. "Would you like to come with me?" he offered, and Kurosawa's face lit up. Still, he hesitated in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Is that okay? I mean, I'm a civilian, and I've got the whole kitchen to clean," he wondered, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"I'm a civilian as well, and if I trust you, the officers should as well. It could be a good opportunity – who knows how much longer you'll be staying here?"

Kurosawa visibly flinched (Shinichi wondered why), but he didn't make any further comment before he strode across the hall and picked up the pair of shoes Shinichi had lent to him. His hair fell over his face as he leaned over to lace them up.

Shinichi mentally sketched out the fall of his bangs, the angle of his jaw, the leanly muscled neck. Kurosawa was interesting, he thought. He was curious about the man's past, of course – what person letting an apparently homeless man into his house wasn't? – but he knew better than to pry. When he'd alluded to Kurosawa's family the first night they'd met, on the way home, he'd received a jerk of surprise and stuttering that told him the man _really_ didn't want to get into it.

And Shinichi could live with that. He could understand needing to keep secrets better than most, after all. He'd been Conan all those years ago, after all, and he'd known about Kid, too.

"Ready?" Shinichi asked once Kurosawa had finished tying up his shoes. The man nodded, and Shinichi pulled the door open. A rush of frosty air blew into their faces, and Shinichi shuddered as he stepped out into the cold.

"The police station is pretty close," he told Kurosawa over his shoulder. The man nodded as he walked down the street at Shinichi's side, his shoulder brushing against Shinichi's every now and again.

The air seemed a few degrees warmer.

* * *

Kaito didn't miss the way the officers seemed to duck around Shinichi when they saw him coming. And from the way Shinichi just lifted his head all the higher and strode on, coat billowing out behind him impressively, he was picking up on it too.

The two of them rounded a corner and Kaito found himself in a very familiar room – rows and rows of desks and people milling around, talking on phones and amongst themselves. His lips almost turned upwards. He used to come here often, dropping in to talk to Shinichi or to annoy him, depending.

A familiar, short-haired policewoman spotted them and hurried over, her face a mask of almost motherly concern. She grasped Shinichi by the hands, eyes flickering over his face. "Kudou-kun, are you doing all right?"

Shinichi smiled, and Kaito was almost startled by how normal it seemed. Sure, there was definitely something fragile there, and it had a faintly forced quality, but it was overwhelmingly _okay_.

"I'm much better, Officer Satou," he assured, and Satou let out a breath, dropping his hands.

"That's good. That's good, Kudou-kun." She pushed back a handful of her hair. "But it's horrible what happened to Kuroba-kun. Do you know what happened to him? Why he was shot?"

"I think he just got caught in the crossfire. I know Kid was being targeted. I guess Kaito was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Shinichi lied, so smoothly that Kaito himself almost believed him.

"Good to know. We'll keep investigating. You're welcome to join us if you'd like."

Shinichi hesitated. "Uh…"

"Of course, we understand if you'd rather not. It must be hard."

"N-No, I'll just need a little more time," Shinichi said, shifting awkwardly.

Satou nodded, eyes narrowed pensively, before she glanced over at Kaito. "Oh! Who's your friend?"

"Kurosawa Haruto," Kaito introduced himself. "I'm just staying with Kudou. I was kind of evicted from my apartment, and Kudou was kind enough to let me freeload."

"I'm Officer Satou Miwako, of the First Division." Grinning, Satou glanced over at Shincihi. "And that's very good of him. What happened to the icy little detective you used to be, hm?" she teased, smirking at Shinichi.

"A magician came along and melted his heart," Shinichi answered, so serenely that both Satou and Kaito were momentarily stunned, gawking at him.

The detective blinked at them. "What?"

Shaking herself, Satou gave a short laugh. "Oh, nothing. I just wasn't expecting you to be making jokes so soon after – you know."

"I know what you mean." Shinichi smiled wryly. "But Kaito would want me to be happy, I think. He wouldn't want to see me depressed."

The sincerity in his voice was what startled Kaito first.

Then it was the truth in his words.

He _didn't _want to see Shinichi depressed. He never wanted that, and even – even if this whole thing failed and Kaito was gone in four more days, he didn't want that. He wanted Shinichi to live, to love, to _be_.

Satou was staring at Shinichi, the slow beginnings of a smile starting on her face. "You know, Kudou-kun, I think you're right." She gave a breathless sort of choke of laughter and patted him on the shoulder. "Okay, boys, I've got to go. See you later, Kudou-kun. It was nice meeting you, Kurosawa-kun."

"You, too," Kaito called after her as she hurried off, heels clicking against the floor. He watched her back disappear down the hall. He was glad there was at least one person who cared about Shinichi here in the police.

Tapping him on the shoulder, Shinichi pointed at a secluded desk in one corner. "Over there is my desk," he told Kaito, who nodded and followed him as they began to slog through the masses of officers.

It took them nearly three minutes to make it across the room. By the time they did, Kaito was feeling vaguely claustrophobic from brushing up against so many suited men. He shuddered as Shinichi scanned the area for an extra chair. Once he located one, he dragged it up beside the one already positioned at the desk.

"Take a seat," Shinichi said, settling in to check through the gigantic stacks of files towering precariously around the desk as well as on it. He blew out a breath and smirked wryly at Kaito as Kaito sat down. "I think everyone started putting the cases they couldn't solve over here. I'm pretty sure I could still see the desk the last time I was here."

"I bet," Kaito commented, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Shinichi set to work. His eyelids dropped half-closed as he watched. The detective's eyes were narrowed in concentration as he sifted through the first case file, reading the lines of text quickly. He flipped one page up, reading something on the second page. His eyebrows shot up at something and he hurriedly turned back to the first page, fumbling blindly around his desk for a pen. Once he'd located one, he scribbled something on the page, shut the file, and set it on a surprisingly bare corner.

"Have you already solved one?" Kaito asked incredulously. He'd seen this before, of course, but it never ceased to amaze him how fast Shinichi's brain seemed to work.

Shinichi barely spared him a glance over his shoulder, nodding in affirmation as he pulled another file out from the nearest mountain. "That one was simple. Just your average homicide. Fishing wire attached to the door, rigged cash register. You know."

Kaito didn't, actually, but he elected not to inquire further.

A smile worked itself across his lips. Shinichi was drawing some kind of shape on one of the crime scene pictures, brow furrowed as he chewed on the end of the pen. He muttered something to himself, expression darkening for a second before it brightened considerably and he scrawled a few words onto the first page. Flipping the file shut, he added it to the pile.

The man really was amazing, reflected Kaito. He solved these cases so quickly and efficiently that it was borderline impossible to keep up with him. Smiling as Shinichi tossed another finished file onto the growing heap, Kaito leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to rest his cheek against his shoulder. The thought of _I'm going to miss him so, _so_ much_ came to him unbidden, and Kaito nearly smacked himself one he realized what he was thinking.

He really didn't need to be thinking about that right now.

* * *

"_You're running out of time._"

Kaito stood in the middle of an empty field, glancing around fervently. Everything from the waving grass at his feet and the sun hanging like a burnt out light bulb in the sky was a varying shade of gray, from slate to heather to charcoal. Even when he looked down at himself, his skin was a pale ash gray, a far cry from the rosy shade he'd come to know as his own. He shivered at the sight.

The voice came again.

"_You're running out of time_."

Scowling, Kaito balled his fists. He recognized that voice now. It was the soul reaper.

"Why are you bothering to remind me?" he asked, his voice sounding oddly distorted, as if he was speaking underwater.

"_I just thought I might as well._" The soul reaper's voice rang throughout the field, seeming to bounce off invisible walls. "_Three days more, Kuroba Kaito. Midnight on the last day, I will come for you. Don't forget that_."

* * *

"Kurosawa, you okay? Do you want to go get something to drink or something?" Shinichi called without tearing his eyes off the latest case file – oh, of course it was the butler. That had been so obvious. He jotted down his explanation, smiling inwardly, before he realized that Kurosawa hadn't replied.

"Kurosawa?" He peered over his shoulder to see that Kurosawa had fallen asleep in his chair, slumped a few inches with his head lolling back. His eyes were shut, lips just the slightest bit parted.

Shinichi smiled at the sight. It was sort of funny how Kurosawa reminded him of Kaito at the strangest moments, like right now. Every time Shinichi had invited Kaito to come with him to work, Kaito always fell asleep within thirty minutes, bored out of his mind. Shinichi didn't blame him – in fact, he understood completely. Watching someone solve cases wasn't the most interesting thing.

The detective was brought out his trance when Kurosawa shifted a little, seeming to shiver. Shinichi frowned, glancing throughout the room. It didn't seem to be cold in the room – the temperature was about seventy-four degrees, right?

Kurosawa snuffled quietly, and Shinichi almost smiled at how cute it was. Really, the man was quite odd. His appearance made you think he'd be a tough, rugged sort of person, but he was unexpectedly cute in his mannerisms.

Stripping off his coat, Shinichi leaned over and carefully situated it over Kurosawa's sleeping form. Kurosawa dipped his head forward, burying his face in the collar of Shinichi's coat.

Allowing himself a fond smile, Shinichi turned back to his case files and resumed working.

* * *

Kaito found himself being shook awake and blinked rapidly, flinching. "What…?" he managed, backhanding his eyes roughly. As he moved his arm, Shinichi's jacket (since when had that been there?) slipped off of him.

Shinichi was looming before him, smiling apologetically. "It's been a couple hours. I was thinking we should head home before it gets dark."

"Er… right." Kaito stared at the coat stretched over him, a slight frown on his face. What had happened? Had Shinichi actually put his jacket over Kaito while he'd slept?

The thought made him smile faintly. So maybe Kurosawa had a chance here?

"Oh, sorry about that," Shinichi said as he noticed Kaito's confusion, quickly snatching his jacket away and pulling it on. He flushed slightly. "You just… you were shivering while you were sleeping, so I thought you might be cold."

"Right." Kaito's smile grew. "So are we heading home now?"

Shinichi almost did a double take at his use of "home," and Kaito mentally kicked himself. Just because he was starting to feel more comfortable around him…

But Shinichi just smiled and nodded. "Yes. Let's go home," he agreed, turning for the exit, and Kaito's eyebrows lifted for a second before he grinned and followed Shinichi out of the police headquarters.

* * *

Kaito stared at the pan blankly. He was pretty sure that yakisoba was _not _supposed to look like that.

"Done?"

Whipping around, Kaito found that Shinichi was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, wearing an amused smirk.

"Yes, and shut up," Kaito grumbled, wiping his hands on a towel.

"I didn't say anything."

"Of course you did." Kaito glared, and Shinichi just smirked all the wider. He groaned. "I tried. Give me some credit here."

"Of course you did, Kurosawa," Shinichi sang, and for someone so hopelessly tone-deaf, he could pull off "smug bastard" pretty well. He sauntered over to the stove, eyebrows shooting up at the mess in the pan.

Kaito watched his expression sourly. "Don't say a word," he threatened. "I'd like to see you try."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Shinichi defended himself, throwing his arms up. His eyes were twinkling. "Just that this looks like the most amazing sukiyaki I've ever seen."

"It's yakisoba."

"Right. Yakisoba."

Even though he scowled and shoved Shinichi out of the kitchen, swearing fiery death upon him and all his descendants, Kaito couldn't help but hum a little as he carried the pan of yakisoba/sukiyaki to the table.


	6. and leave the blinds closed

_Here we are with chapter five! Plot gets a bit... um... un-good here, in my opinion. Yeah. But I hope you enjoy anyway!_

* * *

_chapter five _/ _**and leave the blinds closed**_

Yawning, Kaito dragged himself down the hallway towards the bathroom. Ugh. He was getting too used to Shinichi's daily coffee dose in the morning. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake without it.

Swiping a hand over his bleary eyes, Kaito paused at the door to the bathroom, struggling to keep from falling over. With a huge sigh, he pushed the door open and stepped into a… very steamy atmosphere?

Shinichi – a very wet, very fresh-out-of-the-bath, very naked Shinichi – jumped, looking up at the intrusion. He relaxed upon seeing Kaito. "Oh. Kurosawa. You scared me," he said breathlessly, smiling awkwardly as he ran a hand through his damp hair. "Sorry about that. Can I do anything for you?"

_Could you _ever, Kaito's brain thought unhelpfully.

He stood there and just gaped for a total of ten seconds before he regained his motor skills, squeaked, "Sorryaboutthatumsorrybye," and backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door as quickly as he could.

Well.

He was certainly awake now.

* * *

"I was thinking… how long have you been around Beika?"

Kaito looked up from his bowl of cereal, swallowing a mouthful of wheat. "What?"

Shinichi tipped his head to one side quizzically, leaning against the doorframe. "I mean, the hospital is in Beika, but I was just wondering if your apartment was in Beika."

"Er…" Frantically, Kaito tried to decide if he knew Beika well enough to claim it had. He decided he didn't – he'd only been around here to visit Shinichi. "No, my apartment was in Ekoda."

"Oh." Blinking, Shinichi seemed to think it over. "Well, then, why don't we keep going around town, since, you know, we ended up not going with Ran and the others? You've seen Poirot now and the police headquarters… what else is there?" A slight smile curled his lips up. "There's Tropical Land, but that brings back too many memories."

"Of –" Kaito almost said _Of being Conan_, but managed to cut himself off. At Shinichi's questioning look, he struggled to finish, "Of, uh, past dates?"

Shinichi's smile grew a few millimeters. "Something like that. Well, it started out that way, at least." He shrugged vaguely (though Kaito understood why – true, he'd been on a date with Ran that fateful day, but the fact was mostly overshadowed by the whole "getting shrunk" ordeal. He peered down into his cereal bowl. "What else is around here?" he continued, more for himself than for Kaito. "There's the… oh, there's the ice skating rink." He raised his face to meet Kaito's gaze. "Do you know how to ice skate?"

Having begun to flinch at the mention of ice skating, Kaito stiffened and averted his eyes from Shinichi's. "Er… not quite?" He peeked up at Shinichi, searching for his response.

The detective just nodded, eyes the slightest bit narrowed as he watched Kaito. "Oh, I see," he said, his voice perfectly normal as he stood up. When Kaito frowned inquiringly at him, he explained, "Getting coffee. You want some?"

"Definitely." Kaito forced a spoonful of his cold cereal into his mouth. He watched as Shinichi walked about in the kitchen, measuring out coffee beans into the machine. He was starting to get a little bit nervous at the lack of real progress. After all, it was the fifth day. He had only two more days until his time was up.

Pain seared the inside of his chest at the thought, and Kaito contemplated bashing his head against the table. This had seemed like a good idea when he'd accepted the soul reaper's offer, but it was not turning out well. Honestly, he should've realized all the problems with this plan.

First of all, Shinichi was grieving over Kuroba Kaito. There was literally no space left in his heart to accommodate a complete stranger like Kurosawa Haruto. It just wasn't – Shinichi wasn't like that, even if he seemed a little callous towards death. That was just a façade developed from his job. He was on the road to recovery, but he was still barely beginning to heal.

And second, Shinichi was a detective. He didn't believe in people coming back from the dead or soul reapers or ghosts or anything even vaguely in the supernatural category. Even if he noticed that Kaito and Kurosawa were similar in just about every way save for appearance, he'd probably just find it odd. He couldn't figure out it was Kaito just like that, probably would never even consider that, and even if he did, he'd never voice the thoughts out loud. It just – it wasn't logical, it wasn't probable, it wasn't _possible_.

Kaito kind of hated how it, um, _was._

Third – well… From what he'd heard from Ran, Shinichi had been in love with him. Kuroba Kaito. And that was fine and perfect and God Kaito was _so_ lucky he couldn't _believe _it, but it really was _not _a good thing at this point in time.

Because if Kaito knew Shinichi even half as well as he knew he did, he'd know that Shinichi wouldn't change his affections that quickly – not within a week. Even if he was drawn to Kurosawa, even if he felt attraction towards Kurosawa, even if he thought he might have fallen for Kurosawa, he wouldn't act. He wouldn't dare to disrespect Kaito's memory by pursuing someone else. Not with Kaito so recently "gone."

Kaito was feeling a growing urge to cry, ironically. Normally, weren't the grieving friends and family that ones who cried when someone died?

But no, here he was, a dead man walking, wanting to cry because he was about to lose it all.

Again.

"How many sugars do you take, Kurosawa?"

"Huh?" Kaito glanced up from the cereal left swimming in his bowl, caught off guard by the question. Shinichi was standing behind the kitchen counter, two cups of steaming coffee sitting in front of him.

With a patient little eyebrow-raise, Shinichi repeated, "How many sugars do you take?"

"Er…" Kaito gathered his thoughts, trying to remember. To be honest, he usually just tipped as much sugar as he could into his cup. "Maybe five?"

"I'm thinking it's probably more like ten," Shinichi muttered under his breath, and Kaito swore his heart was about to rappel up his throat at the small, genuine smirk on Shinichi's face.

"Well." Kaito made a valiant effort to think of how words worked again (there were nouns, right? And verbs? Something like that) before he gave up, running a hand over his face. "Thanks. Sorry to trouble you."

Shinichi just offered a gracious nod as he reached for the half and half and emptied a good seventy-five percent of it into the cup.

Breathing out, Kaito returned his gaze to his cereal. Most of it was drowning in milk, slowly withering as it drifted to the bottom of the bowl. Idly, he wondered if he should attempt a rescue mission.

He made the mistake of looking up at Shinichi and catching the man's eye. The detective raised an eyebrow but made no comment at Kaito's sudden attention as he serenely stirred the coffee with a spoon. Somehow, he managed to give off an entirely peaceful and striking aura, while clad in tartan flannel pants and a shirt that hung the slightest bit loosely on his frame.

It wasn't helping. None of it.

Damn, Kaito must have been _insane _to think this was going to work. To live – to _share a life _with Shinichi, completely, entirely, _perfectly_ – waking to Shinichi, drinking Shinichi's coffee, breathing Shinichi, loving Shinichi – for _seven days_ and then having that ripped away for eternity… Kaito was such an _idiot_. There was no other way to describe him. It was having your heart ripped to shreds in front of your face – it was an artist going blind, it was car accidents on your birthday, it was comatose siblings on Christmas Eve.

It was hell.

Oh the irony, Kaito thought bitingly, dropping his head onto the table hard and narrowly managing to not overturn his cereal bowl. It hit the cool surface with a clunk, one that made Shinichi pause on his journey back to the table.

"Kurosawa?" he asked, clearly concerned. His concern was only salt in the wounds, but Kaito managed to unglue his head from the table and reattach it firmly to his shoulders.

Slipping on his Poker Face, Kaito smiled as brightly as he could and motioned for Shinichi to set the coffee down in front of him. "I'm good. Just felt sick for a second."

For some reason, Shinichi had gone stationary at Kaito's forced smile. He stared at Kaito with a somehow simultaneous mixture of confusion and realization on his face. When Kaito frowned at him and coughed pointedly (why wasn't he moving?), Shinichi finally jerked out of it, the action nearly sending the coffee in the cups sloshing to the ground. "Oh, uh, sorry." His fingers shook almost imperceptibly as he set the mug down at Kaito's left hand.

"Hm." Lifting the cup to his lips, Kaito took a sip – the sugar and cream was surprisingly balanced – before putting it back down. "What was that about?"

Having just taken a gulp of his own coffee, Shinichi twitched, hurrying to put the cup down before he dropped it from his increasingly unsteady hands. He dragged in a breath, seeming to force himself to meet Kaito's eyes. "Just – nothing. You looked – well, no, you didn't quite _look_, but you reminded me for a second of –" He broke off, sighing heavily. "It's nothing. But you… you know, you're really something, Kurosawa. At first, I thought you were kind of unimpressive, but really, you're definitely… something." Shinichi seemed to wince. "Wow, I'm really articulate today. I just – I get this feeling that you're not going to be around for a long time, like you're going to have to move on soon, and I just want you to know that I think you're amazing."

_Oh_.

It was impossible not to melt just the slightest at that.

"Ha, as if," Kaito said aloud, though, diverting his gaze. There was no way he could meet Shinichi's eyes after a comment like _that_. "A guy like me, who gets evicted from his apartment and passes out at hospitals while trying to find work and ends up freeloading off of detectives? Not notable. At all." He traced the rim of his mug, smiling a little to himself.

He probably should try to avoid reminiscing about this kind of stuff when he was depressed enough as it was, but he couldn't help but remember a conversation he'd had once with Shinichi on this very topic. They'd been in the Kudou family library, and Shinichi had been buried in case files that the inspector had sent home with him. Kaito had just been visiting, watching Shinichi go through the cases in minutes flat.

"You know, you're really amazing," Kaito had commented as Shinichi wrote what appeared to be an essay on the composition of cyanide on the corner of one page.

Shinichi had blinked and raised his eyes from the paper, that faint frown he wore when he was solving cases superimposed on his features. (Kaito had come to call it his "deduction face." Privately, of course.) His pen had stilled. "What?"

"You're amazing," Kaito had reiterated, rolling his eyes. "You go through cases like they're, I don't know, hiragana practice sheets and you're writing the 'ta' character over and over. It's incredible, as much as I pretend detectives aren't impressive."

The detective had stared for about three seconds straight before he'd said, "Are you kidding me?" in a tone so affronted that Kaito had almost been taken aback.

"Yes?"

"If anyone's amazing, it's _you_," Shinichi had countered, setting down his pen. "Do you know what you do? You plan heists and design magic tricks and execute them both perfectly. You've got an entire task force dedicated to catching you. You fight for justice in a way I could never hope to rival." He had picked up his pen again, as if that settled it. "You're the amazing one. I just do what I can to pretend to contend with you."

"But you –" Kaito had begun to protest, but was silenced by a glare from Shinichi.

"Look, you're amazing. End of story – stop protesting and shut up."

Kaito had felt warm for days after that conversation.

"If anyone's amazing, it's you," he murmured under his breath, so low he doubted Shinichi could hear him. "Do you know what you do?"

If Kaito had been looking at Shinichi when he'd said that, he might have noticed the marginal widening of Shinichi's eyes and the way he seemed to study Kaito's face even more intently now.

But by the time Kaito finally remembered he was sort of in a conversation and his head snapped up, Shinichi's expression had been wiped clean, impassive and emotionless.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing." Kaito gave a shaky laugh. "I was just – thinking."

"Right." Shinichi watched him for a second longer before he seemed to rouse himself. "Hey, back to what we were talking about. Going around Beika. You know, I know this really good sushi bar. Want to try –"

"No," cut in Kaito so quickly even he was startled. The thought of the, uh, aquatic creatures made his stomach turn. At the questioning look Shinichi angled at him, he quickly covered, "I'm, er, allergic. Can't get anywhere near the f… fish." He barely managed to suppress a shiver of abject horror.

"I see." There was a gleam in Shinichi's eyes, but it disappeared as he reached for his coffee cup. Kaito didn't really know – he was still too busy thinking about the goddamn finny things. Gack. "Well, I guess we're staying in, unless you want to come with me to the police station again. I was thinking about going in again."

He stopped, bringing the mug just short of his lips. "You know, I asked you about this before and you didn't seem ready to talk to me about it, but what's the story with your family? What happened to your family?"

"Huh? My family?" Kaito's brow furrowed at the sudden change in topic. "Er…"

"Yes, your family. Do you have siblings?"

"Oh, no. I had a friend I was really close to when I was a kid."

Narrowed eyes, slight smile. Shinichi leaned forward just a little. "So no siblings? What about your parents? Your dad?"

"My dad was murdered when I was a kid," Kaito explained, staring into the depths of his coffee cup. "My mom's okay, though. I had a caretaker for a bunch of years." He wondered where he should stop and draw the line. Where would be too far? When would he reach the too-specific, unique to him place that would get him in trouble with the soul reaper?

"Oh, Konosuke-san?" Shinichi asked conversationally. "He's helped you on heists, hasn't he, Kuroba?"

Distracted, Kaito began to answer, "Mmhm –" before he felt a sharp pain shoot up his spine and it felt like his eyes had exploded. Bright spots danced across his vision, obscuring Shinichi, and Kaito barely managed to get out a choked gasp of pain before his jaw locked in place and pure agony sparked in his veins, tugging, yanking, _ripping_; his arm, _ow_, why did that hurt so much and oh –

He barely felt the impact of the floor hitting his arm in a way that brought déjà vu. He barely felt his skull crack against the table leg and he barely heard the sound of ceramic shattering as he overturned the table. He barely heard Shinichi shouting, "Kurosawa? _Kurosawa_?!" as he drew in one breath and his lungs seemed to implode.

He did, however, hear a whisper that sounded horrifyingly like the soul reaper's voice.

_You are not allowed to tell him anything that directly relates to Kuroba Kaito – things that are unique to him._

_Violate any of these terms, and you will regret it dearly._


	7. i'm right there staring at your window

_CONTAINS OCs (soul reapers) until the first linebreak. I hope you guys don't mind. ;_;_

_Also, whoa. Did _not _expect that response to the "cliffhanger."_

* * *

_chapter seven _/ _**i'm right there staring at your window**_

.

.

.

The soul reaper sighed at the scene on the waving screen playing out before her, arms crossed over her chest. Kuroba had just collapsed, choking on the ground with Kudou hovering over him frantically. She couldn't deny that she had been rooting for Kuroba and had accordingly gone a bit easier on him than she probably should have regarding punishment for giving away information, but this was going too far. Kuroba had just admitted that he was Kuroba, not this Kurosawa person he'd come up, _and _agreed that Konosuke Jii helped him on heists, which was completely unique to Kuroba Kaito. That was a complete violation of the terms.

But this Kudou Shinichi was far more perceptive than she'd thought, she conceded to herself. She probably should've realized that a detective like him would be able to pick up on the fact that Kuroba was quite literally himself with a different face. Unfortunately, though, he hadn't exactly outed Kaito as _Kaito __–_ he hadn't directly confessed, and _that_ was what she needed to give Kaito the okay to live on.

Ah well, no matter now. She unsheathed her katana, the blade gleaming in the dim murkiness of the soul reaper lair. Adjusting her grip on the handle, she began to trace fiery lines in the air – the first strokes of _Kuro –_

"Oi! Yumiko!"

The soul reaper jumped and whirled around, the glowing character fading.

Her partner was striding towards her, wearing an angry scowl. His robes swirled around him dangerously, aura crackling around the edges. The soul reaper was not intimidated, frowning hard.

"What do you want, Takashi?" she snapped, irritated.

"I heard you're trying to kill that guy, that Kuroba guy!" the man yelled angrily, and she sighed.

"He broke the terms of our agreement. It's the consequence."

"But I want this one to stay together!" he whined. He was now close enough to begin clawing at the soul reaper's robes. "You never let them stay together, Yumi! You're so cold!"

"Don't call me that," she demanded bitterly, dragging his hands off of her. "I have to take his soul, Takashi! There's nothing else I can do! He told that Kudou about his identity _and_ gave away information unique to him!"

"Make an exception!" the male soul reaper ordered, grabbing her by the shoulders. His eyes softened from bright red to a softer shade of scarlet, and his grip slackened. He rested his forehead against hers, suddenly quiet. "Please, Yumiko. I just – I want to see these two together. They…" He paused. "They remind me a little of… of _us._ Do you _– _do you understand what I mean?"

The soul reaper's face changed. She tried to summon up her anger, but found it had all dissipated. What did this man _do_ to her?

Resigned, she snapped her fingers, looking everywhere but at her partner. The shimmering mirage floating beside them revealed that Kuroba had begun to breathe again. Kudou was running his hands through Kuroba's hair in wordless relief, pressing Kuroba's – Kurosawa's – unconscious face to his. The soul reaper stabbed her sword back into her sheath, narrowly missing her partner's hand, which was still positioned on her shoulder.

"You owe me one, Takashi," she said gruffly before stalking past him, aura blazing a little brighter than usual.

He smiled to himself.

* * *

Burning needles stabbed into the back of Kaito's neck as he jerked to awareness, eyes wide and adrenaline hissing in his veins. "What – dammit –" Where was he? This bed wasn't – what was happening?

His vision focused on the wall about twenty feet away from him. White, bookshelf covered in murder mysteries, desk swamped with files –

This wasn't the guest room. This was Shinichi's room.

There was the sound of footsteps pounding towards him, and Kaito looked at the door just as it swung open and Shinichi hurried in, face creased with concern. "Kuro –" He relaxed at the sight of Kaito staring back at him quizzically. "Are you all right? Do you need anything? What can I do for you?"

"Calm down, I'm fine. What –" Kaito stopped, surprised at how scratchy his voice was. His throat felt sandpapery, upon further inspection. His head seemed to pulse with pain at the realization. Swallowing, he tried again. "What happened?"

"You collapsed all of a sudden yesterday at breakfast," Shinichi said, dragging his desk chair over and sitting down beside the bed.

"Yesterday?" All the moisture vanished from Kaito's mouth. "I've been out for a day?" Didn't that – didn't that mean that today was the sixth day? He only had tomorrow till midnight?

"That's right." Shinichi paused. "You stopped breathing for nearly a minute. Your heart slowed so much it almost stopped." His voice caught, and Shinichi had to clear his throat. "Once you started breathing again, you passed out and wouldn't wake up. Otherwise you were just about okay. I called the hospital to see what I should do, and they told me to just keep you here and watch over you, because they're full over there from a four-way bus crash and you were fine, just unconscious. But I'm supposed to bring you back in if you stop breathing again." He paused. "Do you have some kind of condition?"

"Uh, yes. I've had it since I'm a kid. Just didn't want to tell you," Kaito quickly agreed, almost smiling. "It's a heart thing."

Shinichi nodded. "I see." He seemed to consider something carefully before he continued, "I wish you had told me, though. I would've been more prepared that way. That minute was… it was horrifying. I honestly thought you were going to die, and I felt – I felt so helpless." _For the second time in a week_, seemed to be the unspoken part of the sentence.

Kaito flinched. He was so pathetic. He was the one causing Shinichi so much pain, even when he was _dead_. It was ridiculous.

Maybe it was good that they only had a day or two left together. Maybe it would be better for Shinichi to move on when he was truly gone.

"Where am I?" he asked out loud, just to fill the silence that had permeated the room and despite that he already knew.

"My room," Shinichi informed him, a sheepish smile working across his face. "The guest room was sort of far from the kitchen, and I didn't want to move you too much after you collapsed. I didn't think it would be too good, you know?"

"Oh." The sudden realization that he was in Shinichi's bed, using Shinichi's sheets, with his head pressed against Shinichi's pillow, made Kaito shift uncomfortably, trying to turn away. That was not what he needed, dammit, not when he only had a little while longer with Shinichi. He did _not _need to be surrounded by Shinichi's scent and the knowledge that Shinichi had slept in this very bed, for the love of all things good.

At his side, Shinichi grimaced and pressed a hand to Kaito's forehead. "Are you okay? You're kind of flushed." His frown deepened. "And a bit warm."

Flinching (Shinichi's hand was cool and comforting and everything he absolutely _didn't _need at this particular moment in time), Kaito hurried to reassure him. "I'm fine, seriously. Uh… can I have some water?"

"Of course." Shinichi removed his hand from Kaito's face and disappeared from the room, his footsteps pattering off down the stairs. Kaito heaved a sigh, untangling his arms from the sheets to press his hands over his face.

Had the loss of a day and causing Shinichi even _more _pain been Kaito's punishment for telling Shinichi too much? Ugh, he didn't even want to think about how little progress he'd -

With a start, Kaito suddenly wondered if Shinichi still thought he was Kaito – after all, he'd clearly tried to get Kaito to admit it right before Kaito had passed out.

He hoped, prayed, and begged that Shinichi still thought he was Kaito.

"_I was going to take your soul_."

Kaito jumped at the soft, slightly distorted voice that breached the silence of the room, looking around frantically. He finally noticed the now-familiar soul reaper standing at the foot of the bed, eyes smoldering red at him. Her body was transparent, as if she wasn't truly there.

"Why are you here?" he hissed, gaze snapping to the partially open door. "What if Kudou sees?"

"_He can't see me. He's not dead yet_." The soul reaper readjusted the katana over her back and propped herself up against the bookshelf. "_And anyway, I'm only here as a projection. I was preparing to take your soul yesterday, you know. You broke two of the terms – you told him information unique to Kuroba Kaito, and you admitted you are Kuroba Kaito to him._"

"But Kudou called me Kaito; shouldn't that _–_"

"_He didn't outright say, 'You're Kaito, I love you.' He didn't confess to you, and that is the goal of this deal - for him to return your feelings. His realization of your true identity is not the main objective._"

"But that's so - " Kaito cut himself off, biting his lip hard. He should've figured. It _couldn't_ be that easy. This was changing the course of someone's death, something that only gods could do. It would be stupid to argue.

The soul reaper raised an eyebrow. "_May I continue?_" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Kaito sighed. "Go ahead."

"_Right. I was going to take your soul right then, but..._" Her shape wavered for a second. "_M__y partner wanted to give you two another chance. You're lucky that he convinced me. I still gave you a punishment – I took one day. Tomorrow I will come for you in person at midnight. Please be sure you are alone at that time._" With a flash of dim gray light, the projection vanished, leaving Kaito staring at the bookshelf.

The door opened at that moment, and Shinichi entered, carrying a cup of water. He followed Kaito's gaze to the bookshelf, one eyebrow climbing up his forehead. "Are you really that interested in _The Sign of Four_?"

"Uh… not really." Kaito looked at Shinichi, offering an attempt at a smile as he struggled into a sitting position.

"Then why…?" Giving up, Shinichi just sighed and handed him the cup of water. He sat back down beside the bed, leaning his forearms onto his legs.

The water felt glorious as it hit the back of Kaito's throat. He downed the entire cup before he even remembered to breathe, almost coughing when he found himself gulping air instead of water.

Taking the cup from Kaito and setting it on the nightstand, Shinichi asked softly, "So how are you feeling? Better?"

Kaito nodded. "Definitely better." He paused, drawing his tongue over his dry lips. "Er – do you remember what you were saying before I, um, had the… attack?" _Please remember. Please know that I'm Kuroba Kaito –_

"Hm?" Shinichi blinked, caught off guard. "W-Well, I think I was talking about…" He broke off, eyebrows furrowing. "I think I said something related to Kaito. It's just – you just really reminded me of him, for some reason. That's... all." He smiled, the action pained.

Distantly, Kaito could hear his hopes fall, crash, and burn. "Oh."

"Yep." Smiling, Shinichi reclined in his chair, placing his hands behind his head. "You have from day one, though. Reminded me of Kaito, that is."

"I… have?" It was Kaito's turn be caught off guard. He stared at Shinichi, one eyebrow slowly creeping upwards.

"You have," clarified Shinichi, an amused look playing over his face. "I don't know why, really. It's probably just because I was just starting to break up over him, but when I saw you at the hospital…" His eyes met Kaito's, warmly azure. "I don't really know why, but I thought you were him for a second."

It felt as if Kaito's heart was about to stop, spontaneously combust, and/or melt all at once.

"I don't think – but you – it's an honor," he stammered. "Because I know you – you were close to, uh, Kuroba."

_You loved me_, he almost said.

With a sigh, Shinichi covered his face and nodded. "You don't have to euphemize it, Kurosawa," he told Kaito, as if he knew what Kaito had been thinking. "I'm sure you noticed what Ran said to other day. That I was in love with Kaito."

"Uh… yes."

Shinichi shot him a wry glance. "If you're uncomfortable around me because of that –"

"No, no, that's not it," Kaito hurried to say. "That's not a problem at all. It's just that I didn't know if I could say that without – without hurting you." He coughed. "Because I know that it must still hurt. You lost him less than a week ago."

"That's true, and thanks for your worry," Shinichi nodded. "But I've been getting better. After all, I've had you, right?" He smirked, and Kaito forced down the blush that threatened to spring to his cheeks.

"I don't think I could compare to the person you're in love with," he grumbled, looking away quickly. Shinichi laughed.

"Not like that. All I mean is that I have someone who can cheer me up and keep me from drowning in depression."

"Right. Because I'm just such a cheerful person by nature."

"Not like that," Shinichi repeated. "You just… you remind me so much of Kaito, and that makes me think – what would Kaito want me to do in this situation? You're a reminder of him. And I don't mean that in a bad way, I just... I mean that in the best way possible."

"So I'm like him, and that's why you like me." Kaito scowled. This wasn't going very well, was it? Shinichi could tell that Kaito was like, well, himself, but he didn't feel the same way about Kurosawa as he did about Kaito. And he didn't think they were the same person.

Shinichi must have sensed his irritation because he quickly composed himself. "Don't take it like that. I know you two aren't the same person, but you really do remind me of him. It's a good thing. Kaito is perfect."

Kaito opened his mouth at that, about to choke out some kind of response, when his chest seized and he began coughing. He covered his mouth with his hand. His lungs burned, and he doubled over. The soul reaper apparently hadn't mentioned that she would still be punishing him.

"Are you all right?" Shinichi asked, alarmed. Kaito didn't even have to bother demanding to know why he would even ask that when Kaito was clearly _not _all right before Shinichi ran out of the room, swearing and saying something about water and painkillers.

Once he'd managed to catch his breath and accommodate the pain, Kaito straightened, his breaths ragged and wheezing.

_Kaito is perfect_.

If only Shinichi knew.

* * *

There was a warm weight in his lap when Kaito forced his eyes open, scrabbling to get himself upright. The room was murky and dark, shadows cutting dark swatches over the walls. Kaito blinked, trying to get his eyes to adjust. How – how long had he been asleep, again? It seemed like it was about eight at night, judging by the shadows. The last thing he remembered was passing out after his coughing fit –

He froze when the something in his lap moved. Looking down, Kaito was surprised to find Shinichi sprawled over him, halfway in the chair and halfway on the bad. The detective's face was buried in his knee, and Shinichi made a small sound of discomfort when Kaito tried to move.

Kaito wondered if he should try to pry the detective off. Would Shinichi mind this? He was about to try to scoot him off and back into the chair when Shinichi turned his face and muttered, "Kaito," in a faintly sad tone.

Eyebrows jumping in surprise, Kaito stared down at his lapful of detective and bit his lip.

Well, tomorrow was his last day. He might as well enjoy the moment.

With that, Kaito carefully rearranged himself back on the bed and went to sleep, Shinichi's presence warm and alive in his lap.

* * *

_A note: Just to clarify, the terms of Kaito and the soul reaper's agreement was that Kaito must get Shinichi to "**return his feelings**" in a week. Shinichi discovering Kaito's identity is not actually the main goal. At least, that's what I think I intended when I wrote this._


	8. and all i need is you

_Well, everyone, we have reached the end. As promised, it's a happy ending!_

* * *

_chapter eight _/ _**and all i need is you**_

.

.

.

If he had been a little bit more theatric, Kaito might have expected it to rain. After all, it was his last day on earth, his last day with Shinichi, so it would be only appropriate.

It was overcast.

Kaito sighed, leaning back against the pillows. Shinichi refused to let him out of bed (oh how he wished that was in a different context) on the grounds that "you're still not well" since he'd woken up with his head on Kaito's legs that morning. It seemed Kaito's second attack had shaken him up to the point that he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Are you sure we can't get out and, I don't know, _do _something?" he grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Something. Anything would be better than sitting here and thinking, _This is my last time in this bed, this is my last time breathing this air, this is my last time seeing Shinichi solve cases. _Anything.

Shinichi, who was sitting at his desk rummaging through case files, didn't even spare him a glance. He starred a sentence and drew an arrow up to the picture of the crime scene. "No. You've had, what, three attacks in the past two days? I'm not going to let you go out and do anything."

"It was only two attacks." Shinichi just shook his head at Kaito's attempt, and Kaito slumped in defeat. Damn Shinichi and his stupid protective instincts. He stared at his hands - his too big, too rough, too clumsy hands. "And I've had attacks before I met you. They're no big deal."

"Your heart just about stopped beating, and you call it no big deal. I swear, Kurosawa," Shinichi muttered under his breath, circling something.

_Kurosawa_. Kaito was starting to hate that name with everything he had. He yanked a hand through his too fine, too straight, too light hair and shut his too small, too deep set, too green eyes tightly. If only he had his own face.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Kaito said before untangling himself from his sheets and stalking out of the room.

Shinichi's gaze trailed after him, and he swallowed a sigh, dropping his pen to press his face into his hands wearily.

"What am I supposed to do?" he mumbled to the empty room.

* * *

Kaito trudged down the stairs, fumbling the last step so he almost went sprawling. Apparently, two days of being confined to bed could do that to you. He didn't complain, though. Something that small didn't matter on your last day alive.

He passed through the kitchen. The kitchen table sat quietly in front of him, bare and sleepy. Shinichi hadn't been down to the kitchen except to get water, tea, or soup for him, so the table was still clean from the last time they'd cleaned up after dinner.

Kaito placed a hand on the cool surface. How many times had he talked to Shinichi here over coffee? Visions of Shinichi sitting there, alone with case files and a half-empty mug, made Kaito choke back a flinch. He shut his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't think Shinichi was strong enough to live without him; Kaito just didn't want to not be there to see him…

Forcing himself to turn away, he clomped out of the kitchen.

The next room was the library. A little half-smile played over Kaito's lips as his eyes swept over the rows and rows of books. He remembered his first time here, a few days after he'd revealed himself to Shinichi. He'd been hugely impressed by the sheer number of books.

"All of these are on murder, aren't they?" Kaito had asked as he had his fingertips lightly over the spines. _Encyclopedia of Poisonous Plants and Their Antidotes_, one of them read; another, _Confession_. "That's just like you, tantei-kun."

"I guess." Shinichi had been standing in the doorway, watching Kaito distrustfully. "I hope you know, though, that I'm more than just murder cases and death."

"Of course you are," Kaito had laughed. "You're just as human as the rest of us."

He hadn't really believed himself.

And now, Kaito just groaned at his own stupidity. How things changed. How his perception of Shinichi had changed.

He started to one of the bookshelves. But all of these books really were about murder, weren't they?

Kaito tugged _Vengeance Is Mine _out from between _17-Sai _and _Why Did the Family Kill Each Other?, _flipping through the pages. He flinched at a few of the words he caught. Yep, definitely about murder –

A small slip of paper drifted out from between two pages, landing at his feet. Raising an eyebrow, Kaito shut the book and leaned over to pick it up.

It was a note written in Shinichi's handwriting. _Meet Kuroba at seven tonight_. Shinichi had probably written it as a reminder so he wouldn't forget when he got engrossed in reading. For the life of him, Kaito couldn't remember which meeting this one was. Could it have been that time they went out for okonomiyaki? Or that time they went to Sanada Kazumi's magic show? Or some other time that he'd forgotten, some other time that he'd been stupid enough not to remember, because time with Shinichi was the most precious thing in the universe and he'd –

"I'm fairly certain this isn't the bathroom, but I could be wrong."

Almost dropping the paper at Shinichi's voice, Kaito whirled around in surprise. "You scared me," he stuttered, quickly slipping the note back into _Vengeance Is Mine_ and replacing it on the bookshelf. "I was just…"

"You don't have to explain," the detective told him, strolling in and stopping in front of Kaito. "I don't mind that much. I'm sure you've got good reasons." His eyes raked over Kaito's before going to the books on the shelves. "Although I don't know why you would pick that book. It's not exactly light reading."

Kaito almost rolled his eyes at that. "Right."

Shinichi wasn't finished, though. He walked along the walls, drawing a hand across the books. "I'm sure you'd find something like this a bit more interesting." With some effort, he pulled a book out, presenting it to Kaito with a slight smile.

Brow furrowing, Kaito reached out to accept it from him. He was about to ask why Shinichi had picked this one in particular when he actually read the title, which was inscribed in English.

_Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar._

Eyes widening, Kaito's head snapped up to stare bemusedly at Shinichi, who was regarding him carefully. He hadn't been aware that Shinichi actually owned a copy of any of the Arsène Lupin books – they were about a thief, after all. It was one of _Kaito's_ favorite series, yes, but…?

Clearing his throat, Kaito managed to say, "Why – I wouldn't have expected this. From you." He swallowed. "You're a detective, right?"

"That's true." Shinichi smirked. "Kaito was a huge fan of this series. He was always going on and on about how cool Lupin is and making references that I didn't get, so I read the whole series without his knowledge so I'd know what he was talking about. It's pretty good. I especially like 'Herlock Sholmes.'" He rolled his eyes and smiled good-naturedly.

Kaito just stared down at the book in his hands. Shinichi – who he was pretty sure only read murder mysteries and encyclopedias – had actually gone to the trouble of reading Arsène Lupin just so he could understand Kaito's references?

It was sickeningly adorable.

Shinichi was watching him, almost calculatingly. "Hey, Kurosawa," he suddenly said, leaning against one of the bookshelves, "do you have anything you want to tell me?"

"Huh?" Kaito blinked, tearing his gaze away from the cover of the book. "What do you mean?"

"Just…" Shinichi waved a hand vaguely. "I don't know, I feel like you might have something you want me to know."

It was all on the tip of his tongue. _I'm actually Kuroba Kaito, the guy you're in love with who recently died, and I adore you to the point that it hurts. Today's my last day on earth, and then I'll actually die and we'll never see each other again. Cool? Cool._

But he bit it back, because what good would that do him? Kaito would just die on the spot. He wouldn't get to keep the sparse few hours left that he barely had.

So Kaito just shook his head, forced a smile, and clutched the copy of _Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Burglar _tighter to his heart. "No. Nothing at all."

The lie burned.

* * *

Well, this was it.

Kaito sat upright in the bed, watching the rhythmic fall of rise of Shinichi's chest as he slept in the chair beside the bed. (He had still insisted on that.) It was eleven forty-five, according to the watch he'd taken off of Shinichi's bathroom counter. He needed to leave, get far away from Shinichi, make sure he was alone when the soul reaper came for him.

Somehow, he was peaceful. He knew he had precious little time left, but that was okay. That was okay, because Shinichi was there.

Kaito followed the curve of Shinichi's jaw down his neck, into the top of his shirt. His skin was absolutely radiant in the moonlight that managed to squeeze between the blinds, almost luminescent. His hair fell in messy swatches across his forehead, resting just barely over his eyelids.

He was beautiful, he was perfect, he was Shinichi.

Once Kaito had memorized every inch of Shinichi, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and carefully, _carefully_ maneuvered around the sleeping detective.

On the nightstand, the pages of _Arsène Lupin, Gentleman Thief _fluttered as Kaito walked resolutely past it and out the door.

He kept going, making sure he opened the front door as silently as possible. The night air that assaulted him was harsh and cold against his skin, but Kaito let himself appreciate it. It was the last time he'd feel it, after all.

The world was quiet, fittingly so. Kaito allowed a smile as he stopped underneath the huge tree growing in the front yard. The leaves rustled comfortingly over his head, as if trying to relax him. He pressed his hand to the tree bark, trying to thank it.

Kaito tipped his head back and drank in the night sky – royal blue silk scattered with diamonds. It reminded him just a little of Shinichi's eyes.

Sitting down, Kaito exhaled softly. With only a few minutes left to go, he might as well let himself _be _himself for the last time, right? Almost automatically, he plucked a small flower out from the grass and tucked it into his sleeve. It was awkward, with his bigger, less nimble hands and the smaller flower, but he managed to do it – make a flower appear out of nowhere. His favorite trick. The one he was best known for.

His hands moved through an array of tricks on autopilot. The flower turned from white to pink, multiplied, disappeared. Kaito rolled the stem between his fingers. He wondered if he could still do magic tricks in the afterlife?

The watch beeped. Kaito had set it to tell him when he had a minute left – he wanted some warning. He dropped his chin to his chest.

A minute left.

Sixty seconds.

Kaito set the flower down on the grass and leaned back against the tree, his eyelids dropping shut. It would be all right. He had gotten his week with Shinichi, his few days of paradise. He was going to be okay –

"Kaito!"

Kaito's eyes snapped open just in time to see Shinichi hurtling towards him, azure eyes wide and face pale. He barely had time to stand up before Shinichi was upon him, eyes positively luminous as he whispered, "You're Kaito, aren't you?" and there were lips on his, soft and sweet and so perfect Kaito wondered if this was heaven.

If it was, he didn't mind dying.

He almost winced when Shinichi pulled away, expression hopeful as he studied Kaito's face, gaze flitting from one eye to the other. "Kaito, it's you, isn't it?" A breath. "You're - you're Kaito, I love you. Don't go."

"I –" he stammered, blinking. This was too much. Shinichi – had actually bypassed his love for logic and rationality and figured it out, but there was no way that this could possibly –

"You're lucky, Kuroba Kaito. He figured it out just in time," came a familiar voice, and Kaito and Shinichi both simultaneously jumped. Shinichi seemed to instinctively step in front of him, one arm moving backwards to hold him back. Kaito smiled at that.

The soul reaper was walking towards them, her eyes glowing soft green. She was actually _smiling_, which surprised Kaito.

"Who is she?" Shinichi asked, his voice low and guarded, and Kaito blinked.

"You can see her? But you're not dead…?"

"Just for tonight," the soul reaper explained ambiguously. Her gaze was soft as it brushed over the two of them, Shinichi still standing protectively in front of Kaito. "Congratulations, Kudou Shinichi."

Shinichi stared. "What's going on? What did I do? Are we both going to die?"

"No," the soul reaper sighed, leaning on one hip. "I won't bother explaining it to you. I'll let Kuroba do the honors. But for now…" She unsheathed her katana (Shinichi and Kaito both tensed) and began to write. Dark black lines followed the path of her katana, inking characters into the air.

_Kurosawa Haruto_.

The letters smoked for a moment before they shattered, scattering the night with glinting black fragments. Kaito gasped, feeling as if something had cracked inside of him, and Shinichi glanced back at him in concern. His expression changed, though, when he caught sight of him.

"Kaito," he choked out, and Kaito blinked and looked down at his hands. They were his – slender fingers, smooth skin. He was himself?

The soul reaper slid her sword back into its sheath with a clang. "And that takes care of business," she concluded curtly, turning on her heel. "I hope you two last forever."

Kaito almost missed the way she peered over her shoulder and smiled, genuinely, before she disappeared in a dull flash of gray light.

Shinichi was gawking at him. "Kaito," he whispered, reaching up to cup Kaito's face and draw his thumb across his cheek. "Kaito, it's you. It's – you."

Placing his hand over Shinichi's, Kaito smiled at him. His heart was warmer than he would've thought possible, he felt happier than he ever had, and it was all because of Shinichi. "It's me. You – you recognized me, Shinichi. Underneath it all."

Swallowing, Shinichi managed a nod. "I – I had my suspicions, you know, but I thought it was impossible. I… I was there when you died. I watched your heart stop. I – I didn't think it was possible." His hand slipped down to hold the back of Kaito's head. "But just now, I heard you leave, so I followed you out here. There's – there's absolutely no one who can do your magic like you, Kaito. I knew it had to be you."

"Mm." Kaito dropped his head against Shinichi's chest, breathing in hard. Shinichi's heart hammered away underneath his ear, alive and warm and real. He was positive his was doing the same. "After I died, I made a deal with the soul reaper. If I could get you to confess to me over the course of a week while I didn't look like me, she would let me go and we'd live on together. If I didn't, we'd be separated forever."

He felt Shinichi tense underneath him. "You shouldn't have taken a gamble like this," the detective said, his voice taut. "We could've never seen each other again, we could've –"

"You were crying."

Shinichi froze. "What?"

"I was in the hospital room," Kaito explained. "You cried for me, Shinichi. You cried for me when you thought I was gone. And I couldn't just walk away after that."

There was a silence, then, gruffly, "Of course I cried. After all, I love you."

Kaito laughed breathlessly. "And I love you."

It was funny, Kaito reflected as he pulled his head from Shinichi's chest and pressed a kiss to his lips, how sometimes you _did _get to say what you wanted, how you _did _get what you wished for. How you _did _get a second chance.

It was really quite funny.

* * *

**Would you believe that all the murder-related books I mentioned are real? Because they are. *shudder***

**Anyway, in my mind, it makes sense that since teeechnically doing magic isn't something that's "unique" to Kaito, he wasn't penalized for it. But Shinichi recognized him all the same, just because THE POWER OF LOVE.**

**...**

**Um, anyway.**

**Thanks for sticking around this long! I hope you enjoyed this fic and see you around, my darlings! - Luna**


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